The Weight of Words

Oliver hugged his parents goodbye, promising to see them again before his flight to Bangkok. His mother gave him a final glance, a mix of pride and lingering concern, while his father patted him on the back, offering words of encouragement. Noah stood to the side, watching silently as the family shared their parting moments. His heart tightened as he saw Oliver pulling away from them, moving further from the world he knew—and perhaps from Noah himself.

As Oliver turned to leave, Noah couldn't bear the thought of letting him walk away without saying what had been weighing on his chest for weeks. His hand shot out, grabbing Oliver's wrist just before he disappeared through the door. "Wait," Noah said, his voice quiet but desperate. "Please, listen to me."

Oliver hesitated, his expression guarded and tired. He'd heard all he thought he needed to hear from Noah, yet something in Noah's voice made him pause. Maybe it was the sincerity, or maybe it was the fact that he was too exhausted to resist any longer. With a resigned nod, Oliver allowed Noah to lead him back outside, to the bench near the pool, where the light flickered softly on the water's surface.

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words heavy between them. Noah took a deep breath, glancing nervously at Oliver's profile, searching for the right way to begin.

"I'm sorry," Noah finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry for making you wait, for hurting you the way I did." He struggled to find the right words, his heart pounding in his chest. "You were there for me when I was at my lowest. You gave me a place to stay, a place where I felt safe, and I was too wrapped up in my own fears to see what was right in front of me."

Oliver's face softened slightly, his hardened expression fading as he listened. There was still pain in his eyes, but the sharp edges had dulled, a small flicker of understanding replacing the cold distance that had grown between them.

"I didn't reject you because I didn't care about you," Noah continued, his voice breaking a little. "It was because I was afraid. I didn't know how to deal with my own feelings… or yours. I thought it would be easier to push you away than risk losing what we had, and that was selfish of me."

Oliver's lips twitched into the faintest of smiles, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears. The vulnerability in Noah's voice made it clear that the words weren't rehearsed—they were real, raw, and full of regret.

"I've only just realized that I like you… a lot," Noah admitted, his voice soft but sure. "It took me way too long to understand it, but I do. And I don't want to lose you. Not to distance, and not to my own mistakes."

Oliver sat stunned, his mouth slightly agape, the redness creeping up to his ears. He froze, unsure of what to say, his heart racing as he processed Noah's confession. For weeks, he had convinced himself that Noah didn't feel the same, that the silence between them had spoken louder than words ever could. But now, hearing it from Noah's own lips, he didn't know how to respond. His emotions were a tangled mess of relief, confusion, and disbelief.

After a few moments, Oliver found his voice. "I'm leaving for Thailand, Noah. How are we even supposed to make this work? We couldn't even figure out what we are when we lived in the same house. How can we manage a long-distance relationship?"

Noah looked down, the weight of Oliver's words sinking in. But after a beat, he lifted his head, meeting Oliver's gaze with a newfound resolve. "I can wait. I will wait," he said, his voice unwavering. "It's only two years. It's not that much."

Oliver's breath hitched. His heart ached at the idea of leaving, but Noah's words brought a surge of hope that he hadn't felt in a long time. The sincerity in Noah's eyes, the confidence in his voice—it was enough to make Oliver believe that maybe, just maybe, they could make it through this.

Before he could stop himself, Oliver surged forward, wrapping his arms around Noah in a tight, desperate embrace. The hug wasn't just a physical act—it was an emotional surrender, a way of saying all the things they hadn't been able to say. Their bodies pressed close together, the warmth of Noah's chest against his, the steady rise and fall of their breaths syncing as they held each other like the world outside didn't exist.

Noah tightened his grip around Oliver, pulling him closer, feeling the softness of his hair brush against his cheek. He inhaled the familiar scent of paint and coffee that clung to Oliver's skin, grounding him in the reality of this moment. The air between them was charged, not just with the tension of weeks of silence but with the raw, undeniable affection that had been simmering underneath it all.

Oliver's heart pounded as he buried his face into Noah's neck, his breath warm against Noah's skin. The tears that had welled up in his eyes earlier finally fell, not out of sadness, but out of relief. He had been holding on to so much pain, so much uncertainty, and now, here in Noah's arms, he finally felt like he could let it all go.

The hug lingered, long and intimate, the weight of their unspoken promises resting between them. Neither wanted to pull away, both knowing that this moment, this connection, was too precious to let slip.

"I'll wait for you," Noah whispered softly into Oliver's ear, his voice barely audible but filled with determination. "No matter how long it takes."

Oliver squeezed him tighter, his voice cracking as he whispered back, "Just… don't let go."

And in that moment, neither of them did.