I Moved On, Right?

The Language of Longing

Author's POV
The following weeks had been a whirlwind for both of them. Stan found himself drowning in work, deadlines piling up faster than he could manage. Vera was no different, with back-to-back appointments and projects that seemed never-ending. Their texts grew shorter, and phone calls became rare.

STAN'S POV
I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to see her. Maybe it was the way she always managed to bring clarity to my chaos, or perhaps it was something more. Either way, one Friday evening, I found myself standing outside her apartment door, a box of her favorite donuts in hand.

The door opened after the second knock, revealing Vera in sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, her hair tied up in a messy bun. Her glasses were slightly crooked, and she looked up at me in surprise.

The moment the door swung open, I didn't think twice. Without a word, closing the door, I stepped forward and pulled Vera into my arms. The warmth of her body against my was a relief I hadn't realized I'd been craving. Her breath caught in surprise, but she quickly relaxed into my embrace, her arms instinctively wrapping around me.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The tension of weeks spent apart melted away, and the familiar feeling of her presence, so grounding and calming, filled the space between them. I felt the weight of my exhaustion, my stress, all of it dissipate as I held her close.

"I missed you," I whispered into her hair.

Vera, still against my chest, chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to soothe something deep inside me. "I missed you too," she murmured, her voice muffled by the fabric of my shirt.

We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, wrapped up in each other's arms, the world outside forgotten for a little while.

VERA'S POV

I stood there, my arms around him, feeling the familiar comfort of his embrace as if it had never left. The weight of the past few weeks-filled with work, responsibilities, and the lingering ache of missing him-began to lift. I inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body. It felt so right, so natural, like they had never been apart.

For a moment, I forgot about everything else-the chaos of my life, the deadlines, the appointments. It was just Stan and me, here, in this small, perfect bubble.

"I didn't expect this," I whispered, my voice slightly shaky, even though I was trying to keep it light.

Stan pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands still holding my waist. His eyes softened as he smiled. "I know, but I needed to see you. I couldn't wait any longer."

I swallowed, my heart fluttering at his words. The vulnerability in his eyes, the sincerity of his tone-it made everything feel so real. So raw.

"I needed to see you too," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's been too much... all of it."

Stan's gaze softened even further, and he took a step back to lift the box of donuts in his hands, offering it to me like it was a peace offering. "I brought your favorite," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Figured we could start with something sweet."

I chuckled, taking the box from him. "You know me too well." I set it down on the small table by the door and then looked back at him, my smile fading into something a little more serious. "I've missed this... us."

He stepped closer again, his hands gently cupping my face as he tilted my chin up to meet his eyes. "I've missed it too," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

For a beat, we just stood there, the space between us charged, like there was nothing else in the world except the unspoken connection we shared. Then, without another word, Stan leaned down, closing the distance between us, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that felt like everything we'd been holding back for so long was finally spilling out.

It was slow, gentle, but with an undeniable intensity, as if we both knew this moment had been overdue. And for that fleeting moment, everything else faded away-our hectic lives, the stress, the uncertainty. All that mattered was the quiet understanding between us, the shared relief that we were finally here again. Together.