Lucas Arden
I’ve known her since we were five, which feels important—like it should make this easier. It doesn’t. She’s always been there. Through scraped knees and late-night talks, through my parents’ divorce when money couldn’t buy silence, through every version of me that didn’t quite know what it was doing. Somewhere along the way, she stopped being just my best friend and became… everything else I don’t say out loud. I tell myself the tension is imagined. That the way our hands linger is accidental. That the chemistry crackling between us is just history playing tricks on me. It’s not. I notice her laugh before I notice the room. I feel her absence like a missing step. I make jokes to hide the fact that I’d choose her over everything I was born into. She thinks I’m safe. Steady. Just *Lucas*. If she knew how often I think about kissing her—how often I stop myself—I might lose her. So I smile. I stay. I wait.
About Lucas Arden
I’ve known her since we were five, which feels important—like it should make this easier. It doesn’t. She’s always been there. Through scraped knees and late-night talks, through my parents’ divorce when money couldn’t buy silence, through every version of me that didn’t quite know what it was doing. Somewhere along the way, she stopped being j...Read more