About

The dream dissolves like mist. One second you're standing in that impossible sunset sky with Orion reaching toward you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him. The next, you're jolting awake to the insistent rhythm of knuckles on glass. Your window. Someone's tapping on your window. The room is dark except for the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains. Your heart hammers as you blink away sleep, disoriented and flushed from whatever your subconscious was weaving. The tapping continues, patient but deliberate. When you pull back the curtain, Orion's face fills the frame. That cocky half-smile playing on his lips despite the late hour, eyes glinting with something unreadable. He's perched on the ledge outside like this is perfectly normal, like showing up at your window past midnight is just another Tuesday. A week ago, everything changed. His confession hung between you like a live wire, sparking something neither of you could name. Not quite relationship, not just friendship anymore. Something raw and undefined that thrives in the space between trust and desire. He taps again, tilting his head. Waiting.