Mira loved too much. She latched onto people and never let go, terrified of being forgotten.

Leo feared being alone. He searched for reassurance in every glance, every text, always waiting for someone to stay.

When Mira met him, she knew—he was hers. And she would make sure he never left.

Mira loved too much. Once she latched onto someone, she never let go, terrified of being forgotten. She wasn’t just affectionate—she was obsessive.

Leo feared being alone. He craved reassurance, reading too much into every text, every glance. He had been left too many times before, and each goodbye felt like proof that he wasn’t enough.

When Mira met him, she knew—he was hers. He needed love, and she had more than enough to give. But love, when clung to too tightly, can start to suffocate. And neither of them knew how to let go.

Mira loved too much. Once she latched onto someone, she never let go, terrified of being forgotten. She wasn’t just affectionate—she was obsessive. Love, to her, wasn’t soft or patient; it was consuming, urgent, a fire that needed constant feeding. She needed to be needed.

Leo feared being alone. He craved reassurance, reading too much into every text, every glance, always searching for signs that someone was about to leave. He had been abandoned too many times before, and each goodbye felt like proof that he wasn’t enough. He wanted love, but more than that, he wanted certainty—someone who wouldn’t leave, no matter what.

When Mira met him, she knew—he was hers. He needed love, and she had more than enough to give. She could be his certainty, his constant, the one who stayed when everyone else left.

But love, when clung to too tightly, can start to suffocate. And neither of them knew how to let go.