Unspeakable Acts (bwwm)

27

| Jaxon Wright |
📍 WA

I don't tell Alyssa when I start sleeping lighter. She still falls asleep the same way she always does, curled into my side, one hand resting on my chest like she belongs there. She does. Her breathing evens out fast, soft and warm, and I stay awake longer than I should, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet. But nothing is wrong.

That's the thing that messes with my head. Our relationship doesn't change in any way that matters. I still love her the same. If anything, loving her feels heavier now. More serious. Like something I have to protect with my whole body instead of just my heart.
She talks. I listen. We laugh. We exist. And still, my chest never fully unclenches.

We're sitting on her bed one afternoon, her back against my chest, both of us scrolling on our phones. She's showing me some video she thinks is funny, laughing before the punchline even hits.

"Watch, watch," she says, nudging my arm. "This part gets me every time."

I smirk. "You laugh early baby, Ruins the joke."

"No, it builds anticipation," she argues, turning to look at me. "You just don't appreciate joy."

I lean in and kiss her cheek. "I appreciate you."

She rolls her eyes but smiles anyway, and that smile hits me the same way it always does. Right in the ribs.
Her phone buzzes again, and she groans. "Jasmine will not leave me alone today."

"What's she on now?" I ask.

"She's trying to convince me to go dress shopping with her. For literally no reason."

I snort. "That's not no reason. That's Jasmine's favorite hobby."

"She says it's for 'manifesting future events.'"

"That sounds expensive."

She laughs again, leaning back into me. Moments like this feel normal and safe. I let myself sit in it for a second longer than usual.

***

Later that night, I'm at KB's place. He's sprawled across the couch, controller in hand, yelling at the screen like it personally offended him.

"That was not my fault," he says loudly. "That game is rigged."

"You say that every time," I reply, dropping onto the other end of the couch.

"Because it's true every time."

He pauses the game and looks at me. "You're quiet."

"I'm always quiet."

"No, like... quieter."

I shrug. "Long day."

He studies me for a second, then nods like he accepts the answer even if he doesn't believe it. "You still coming Friday?"

"To what?"

"Our thing. The place. The food."

"Oh. Yeah." I hesitate. "Yeah, I'll come."

He grins. "Good. Alyssa coming?"

"Probably."

"Good," he repeats. "She makes you less scary."