TYLER 
As we both took a quick shower, washing away the exhaustion, we decided to collapse onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, lost in our thoughts.
Lying in opposite positions, we found solace in the quiet of the room. The rhythmic sounds of our breathing were the only audible reminders of our shared presence. I couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between our bodies—My broad shoulders and muscular frame seemed to emanate strength, while his petite figure appeared fragile beside me.
 
Our eyes wandered over the intricately designed ceiling beams, tracing patterns in the concrete work. The gentle flicker of the lamps cast shadows that played hide-and-seek across the room. We watched in silence, each lost in our reverie.
 
"You know, sometimes I just think that why is life so unfair? I mean, why does someone in this world have to suffer, like, can't we all just live happily together?" I heard him say, so I turned my head to the left to see him.
 
I broke the stillness with a heartfelt sigh. "Because that's how life is meant to be, Miles," I said softly, my voice filled with conviction. "If we don't suffer, then how will we know to become stronger? How will we know when to fight? How are we supposed to be brave? You know what I mean?"
 
Miles turned his head slowly to look at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. With effort, he forced himself to smile, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I know what you mean," he replied, his voice tinged with resignation. "But sometimes, it feels like the weight of suffering is too much to bear. I feel lost, questioning why life has to be so hard."
 
As I listened to his words, my heart felt heavy with empathy. I understood Miles' struggle all too well. Life has a curious way of testing our resilience, pushing us to our limits, and forcing us to confront our deepest fears.
 
"Do I have to suffer my father's constant beatings this much? For what cause?" he whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed pain. I reached out and gently caressed his face, my heart breaking for my boyfriend. It was a testament to his strength that he had finally opened up about the abuse he had endured for far too long.
 
In the quiet of our dimly lit room, I held him close, his tears soaking my shoulder as he poured out his anguish. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, piercing my soul with their deep-rooted despair.
 
His father, a man consumed by his demons, had become the embodiment of violence, unleashing his rage on his son. The physical scars were tangible, but it was the emotional torment that had seeped into his very core, affecting his sense of self-worth and happiness.
 
As I held him, I realized the magnitude of the responsibility I now carried. It wasn't enough to offer solace and support; I had to play an active role in helping him escape this cycle of abuse.
Sensing his need for support, I offered a warm smile. "You know, Miles, you don't deserve any of those things that have occurred to you," I said gently, "but always remember that you're not alone. I am here, I see you, and I'll be there to fight alongside you whatever battles may come to your life."
 
"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because I'm telling you, it works," Miles said, a playful twinkle in his eyes. His laughter echoed through the quiet room.
 
I couldn't help but smile at his infectious joy. It was one of the many things I loved about him—his ability to find humor even in the darkest moments. With Miles by my side, it felt as though the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders, if only for a little while.
 
Feeling his laughter spark a flicker of happiness within me, I chuckled softly. "You have that effect on me, you know," I confessed, my voice filled with sincerity.
 
His eyes met mine, and warmth spread across his cheeks, turning them a gentle shade of pink. He looked away, biting his lower lip, unable to hold my gaze.
 
"I love you, Miles," I said, the words floating in the air. Their weight settled between us, filling the quiet space with vulnerability and affection.
 
His blush deepened, but a shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Miles had always been a man of few words, his actions speaking louder than any declaration. I knew his heart through the way he cared for me—the little gestures that showed me I was cherished.
 
Suddenly, we heard a gentle knock on the door. Startled, Miles and I exchanged curious glances as we slowly rose from the bed. Morris, with his mischievous grin and the combination of his impulsive nature and that enigmatic hand in his pocket, made us unsure whether to expect mischief or something entirely different.
"I apologize; I didn't mean to interrupt your special moment, but dinner is ready and Hanz is waiting for you downstairs," Morris said with a goofy smile on his face. Then I realized that Miles and I didn't wear anything to cover our upper bodies, so basically, we were half-naked. Miles and I looked at each other, our faces flushing with embarrassment.
 
"Yeah, we'll be there in a minute," I stammered, trying to hide my embarrassment. Morris just nodded before making his way back to the dining room.
As soon as Morris left the room, I let out a groan of embarrassment. I stood up and went into my closet to search for something to wear. I scanned through the hangers, desperately trying to find the perfect outfit for the night. My eyes fell on a darker shade of green hoodie that had been buried beneath the others for far too long.
 
"Are you fine with this hoodie?" I asked Miles as I turned around to show him the green hoodie.
 
"Yeah, that'll be fine," Miles replied, his eyes focused on the hoodie I had just offered him. I nodded in response and tossed the black hoodie towards him, which he effortlessly caught. Watching him catch it reminded me of how effortlessly he had caught my attention when we first met.
 
I turned back to my cluttered closet, ruffling through the hangers in search of something that would complement Miles' hoodie. My eyes fell upon a vibrant green shirt tucked away amidst the sea of muted colors. It seemed like an ideal match, both to my eyes and to my intuition.
 
Pulling the shirt off the hanger, I slipped it over my head and glanced at myself in the mirror. The green seemed to bring out the color in my eyes, adding a touch of brightness to my otherwise monotonous wardrobe.
When we were done changing, we immediately made our way down to dinner. The anticipation of a delicious meal filled the air as familiar aromas wafted through the house. As soon as we arrived, Dad was already in his usual seat at the center of the table, with Morris sitting on the right side.
 
With a smile, Dad greeted us, and we took our designated seats on the left side of the table. Two plates were already there, awaiting our arrival. The table was adorned with a vibrant floral centerpiece, adding a touch of elegance to our modest family dinner.
 
"Oh, matching clothes! Cute!" he said, struggling to keep a straight face. I rolled my eyes, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a response.
 
I couldn't help but smile. Despite the teasing, it was moments like these that made our relationship special. Dad always found a way to make even the most mundane moments memorable. And Morris, somehow had keen insights that echoed through him.
 
As the years passed, I started to appreciate my dad's quirky sense of humor and his affinity for ventriloquism.
 
"Not now, Dad," I begged, pleading silently with my eyes as Miles and I settled into our seats. The tension in the air was palpable, and I could feel Miles growing increasingly uncomfortable by the minute. But my father and Morris just chuckled to themselves, seemingly oblivious to the gravity of the situation.
 
Morris, who had noticed the unease between Miles and me. He had always been perceptive and empathetic, and it didn't surprise me that he could sense our troubled state. With a heartfelt smile, he spoke up, his words filled with warmth and love.
 
"What he meant was, you guys looked good together looking like that; it's cute and lovely," Morris said, trying to make Miles and me feel better and to diffuse the tension in the room.
 
"Thanks, Paps," I replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
 
"My pleasure, Ty," he responded, returning the smile. His eyes twinkled with a mixture of understanding and wisdom.
...
During our dinner, Morris and I sat in silence, allowing Dad and my boyfriend, Miles, to carry on their conversation without interruption. It seemed as if Dad had an insatiable curiosity as he bombarded Miles with numerous questions covering a wide range of topics.
 
The room was filled with the clinking of cutlery and the muffled sound of pleasant conversation. Dad's enthusiasm spilled over into his animated gestures, while Miles listened attentively, responding with thoughtful and articulate answers. They discussed politics and current events, and they even shared a few jokes that had us all laughing.
 
But as the evening progressed, Dad's inquiries took a more emotional turn. He prodded Miles gently about his childhood and hobbies, painting a vivid picture of his curiosity. Then, without warning, Dad asked Miles about his family. The atmosphere around the table shifted, and a heaviness descended upon us.
 
Miles hesitated, his eyes fixed on his plate. It was as if the weight of his past had suddenly become too burdensome to bear and the truths too difficult to share. I glanced at Morris, who wore a concerned expression, his brows furrowed in empathy.
 
Dad, ever perceptive, noticed Miles' hesitation and the invisible walls he had unintentionally erected. Sensing the discomfort, he quickly redirected the conversation, suggesting that the four of us watch a movie together after dinner. The proposal hung in the air, offering a much-needed escape from the unspoken tension.
 
After a delicious dinner together, the four of us—Morris, my dad, my boyfriend Miles, and I—shut down on the couch to enjoy a movie before calling it a night. Little did I know that this seemingly ordinary movie night would turn out to be a remarkable turning point in our relationship.
 
As the movie began, I couldn't help but notice the somewhat reserved dynamic between Dad and Miles. They had always been polite to each other, but there was a certain unfamiliarity lingering in the air. I hoped for them to bond, as both held important places in my heart. I wanted them to connect and form a deeper relationship rather than merely coexist for my sake.
 
In the beginning, the room was filled with subtle tension, leaving me slightly anxious. However, as the storyline progressed, something unexpected happened. A shared chuckle and a nod of agreement followed, and soon enough, casual conversations emerged between the two of them. I observed with bated breath, thrilled and amazed by the transformation taking place.
 
Dad, a seasoned movie enthusiast, effortlessly provided insight into various scenes, actors, and hidden symbolism throughout the film. His passion radiated as he spoke, and Miles seemed genuinely captivated, something I had rarely seen before. Gradually, Dad's initial wariness morphed into genuine interest, and Miles reciprocated by actively engaging in the conversation.
 
Their exchange of ideas and perspectives surprised me. It was as if they had discovered a shared universe within their minds, with parallel strands that connected seamlessly. They discussed character development, and the film's underlying messages, and even sparked debates on the director's intentions. It was incredibly refreshing to witness their intellectual connection unfold before my eyes.
 
Time flew by swiftly, and soon the credits rolled across the screen, signaling the end of the movie. The room fell into a brief silence as we all absorbed the cinematic experience we had just shared. It struck me how a simple movie had become a catalyst, unraveling hidden depths within my relationships.
 
I turned to look at Dad and Miles, both sporting newfound smiles and sparkling eyes. It was heartwarming to see their barriers dissipate, replaced by a genuine camaraderie. They subtly acknowledged the unexpected bond they had formed, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness.
 
This movie-night had transformed into something beyond mere entertainment; it became a pivotal moment for us all. Dad and Miles had crossed an invisible line, moving from acquaintances to friends. Their shared interests bridged the gap, making my heart swell with joy. I knew from that moment on that our collective future would be filled with more laughter, understanding, and shared experiences.
 
As we bid each other goodnight and retreated to our respective rooms, I couldn't help but reflect on the power of unexpected connections.
I took a deep breath as I stared at the ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts and anticipation while I waited for Miles to come to bed with me. It had been a long day, filled with tension and unspoken emotions, but I knew that tonight was the night we would finally confront the truth that lay between us.
 
To my annoyance, I groggily rolled out of bed, my eyes heavy with sleep. Rubbing my temples, I stumbled towards the floor-to-ceiling glass wall that adorned my penthouse. Through the thick curtains, the vibrant city lights danced like fireflies against the night sky.
 
Peeling open the curtains, I leaned in closer, trying to shake off the lethargy that clung to my bones. The view that greeted me was breathtaking. Skyscrapers pierced the heavens, their structures illuminated by a mesmerizing symphony of neon lights. The streets below were lined with a mosaic of cars, their headlights painting streaks of brilliance across the asphalt canvas.
 
I had always found comfort in the bustling metropolis that sprawled outside my window. Its endless activity and clamor offered me solace, reminding me that life thrived beyond the confines of my thoughts. But tonight, as I gazed upon the city, my annoyance slowly transformed into wonder.
 
Lost in my thoughts, I let out a contented sigh when suddenly I felt a pair of warm hands caress my naked chest from behind. A delightful shiver ran down my spine, and a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. There was something undeniably comforting about the touch—familiar yet electrifying.
 
With a sense of certainty, I knew these hands belonged to none other than Miles, my boyfriend.
 
Curiosity got the best of me, I turned around to meet Miles' gaze. But as I twisted my body, my eyes widened in astonishment, disbelief replacing the captivating smile that had graced my face moments ago. There, standing before me, was Miles, wearing nothing but a playful smirk.
 
A surge of surprise coursed through me, mingled with a newfound desire that blazed brightly. I had never imagined Miles would surprise me like this, catching me off guard with his audacious nakedness. Yet, I would be lying if I said I didn't like what I saw. My pulse quickened, and my heart beat a frantic rhythm against my ribcage.
 
As our eyes locked, a flicker of mischief danced in Miles' gaze. Half of his face was hit by the moonlight, casting a melancholic glow over his features. Yet I could still clearly see the intensity in his hazel eyes as he stared into mine. We stood there, just the two of us, near the glass wall window, under the pale moonlight.
 
At that moment, it seemed as if the world had faded away, leaving only the connection between us. A fragile bond that silently spoke volumes. Closing the distance between us, I found myself drawn to him and compelled to pull him closer. My hand instinctively reached out, grabbing him by his waist and gently guiding him towards me.
 
His breath hitched in his chest, as though he too felt the magnetic pull drawing us together. And then, as if in surrender, he leaned his face into my palm, embracing its warmth. His eyes fluttered closed, his lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks. It was as if he wanted to memorize the sensation, to etch it into his memory forever.
 
His face, so close to mine, revealed a quiet vulnerability. The moonlight highlighted half of his face, leaving the other concealed in darkness. But this imperfection only added to his allure, as his hidden features became a canvas for my imagination to paint upon.
 
I traced the contours of his cheek with my thumb, savoring the softness beneath my touch. His breath mingled with mine, creating an ethereal connection that defied explanation. It was in these stolen moments that I realized the power of touch—the ability to convey emotions without the need for words.
 
"I love you, Ty," he whispered before opening his eyes again to look at me. Those four words hung in the air, heavy with emotion, as a sense of vulnerability and anticipation filled the room.
 
I smiled, and before I knew it, I pressed my lips against his. Our lips moved in synchronization, trying to tie each other's tongues in an electrifying dance. It was a moment I had longed for, a moment that consumed my every thought. I loved the feeling, and I couldn't stop.
 
I smiled, completely lost in the moment, as our eyes locked and an inexplicable rush of emotions surged through me. It was one of those rare instances when time seemed to stand still, and my heart raced with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. In that split second, I made a decision that would forever alter the course of my life.
 
Without overthinking, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his, feeling an electric jolt shoot through my veins. The world around us seemed to fade away, and all that existed in that instant was the entanglement of our lips. It was a delicate dance, our mouths moving in perfect harmony, exploring uncharted territory.
 
Each touch was intoxicating, sending waves of warmth cascading through me. I reveled in the taste of him, the softness of his lips, and the way our breaths mingled, creating a shared rhythm. Our tongues danced, tentatively at first and then with increasing ardor, as if searching for a connection that went beyond physicality.
 
Time lost all meaning as our kiss deepened, the intensity building like a crescendo. It was as if a hidden desire, suppressed for far too long, had finally found its voice. At that moment, I realized that this was not just a fleeting moment of passion; it was a culmination of unspoken feelings and a connection that defied explanation.
Breaking the kiss, we gazed into each other's eyes, both of us breathing heavily and our hearts pounding in unison. It was as if time had started moving again, hustling to make up for the stillness that had enveloped us.
 
"I can't hold it much longer; are you sure about this?" I whispered, my breath caressing his earlobe. We both paused, allowing the moment to breathe, briefly breaking the intensity of our intermingling thoughts and emotions.
 
"Yes, Ty," he replied, a twinkle in his eye, as I grinned from ear to ear. We both lay down on the plush bed, our lips meeting again in a passionate embrace as the world outside disappeared.