I stand outside your door. I can smell you already. It's a smell I find comfort in, but today, it makes my heart pound.

Both my hands tremble. One hovers near the door, and the other holds the bouquet.

Vamos Mateo. Tú puedes... solo... toca. No es como si le estuvieras confesando tu alma...

I was though.

I was going to confess everything that I felt. I was going to confess everything to the one who has had me wrapped around their finger.

I raise my hand to knock but stop just one inch from the door. I can't believe that I'm trembling this much. I've never felt this way. I've always been in control. I've always been calm. Stoic. Aloof.

I always kept my mind quiet.

But when it comes to you— a small person compared to me— my mind goes loud, and I don't know how to shut it up. The worst part? I'm not sure if I even want to know.

I'm constantly thinking about you. About how soft and warm you look through the screen whenever we video call. If you're okay. What you're feeling. What you did today.

If you thought about others.

The thought makes my fists clench. It almost makes me want to knock out whoever laid their eyes upon you.

Before I get even more drenched from the rain, I finally knock. Three firm knocks.