Art by  Makeda-TLK

See that? That look is mine alone. The soft “I love you” she mumbles half asleep when the world finally shut up. The way her tail curls around my ankle like it’s instinct. The little hum she makes when I run fingers through her fur. No one else gets any of that.

No one else gets the late night talks about old hurts, the stupid inside jokes about combined birthday gifts, the way we both still feel like the forgotten kids sometimes but now we’ve got each other to remind us we’re not.

Sure, we let other people in for fun and whatever itch needs scratching. But romantically? My heart locked onto hers the night I crashed into her in the Senses Fail mosh pit at Riot Fest, where she first let me see the real her. Hers locked onto mine right back. That’s the center. That’s why the rest never shakes us.

In the end, everything circles back to us as two messed up elder emos, still stupidly in love after all these years, hearts tangled so tight nothing else can touch them.
She’s my safe place. I’m hers. The love we share is the only thing that’s ever felt completely pure.

Tillie’s the only one who makes the quiet feel like forever.