The night was quiet. The city beyond the windows hummed faintly under the cover of darkness, but in the soft-lit bedroom, everything had slowed to stillness.
Rivan lay in the center of the bed, cradled between Keal and Liora. The sheets were warm from their shared bodies, and the air carried the quiet scent of rain and skin. His fingers gently laced through Keal's, while Liora's head rested on his chest, her breath rising in time with his heartbeat.
None of them wanted to speak first. The unspoken weight of goodbye clung to the air like mist.
"I still remember the first time I saw him," Keal whispered, breaking the silence, his thumb brushing against Rivan's knuckles. "Second year of high school. He was late to gym class. Hair all messy. Shirt untucked. Completely lost."
Rivan chuckled, eyes flickering with memory. "You stared at me like I'd walked into the wrong planet."
"Because you had this energy," Keal said, voice soft, smiling at the memory. "Like trouble wrapped in sunshine."
Liora tilted her head up slightly, her voice tender. "So… when did it happen? The first time you knew?"
Rivan turned his head toward the ceiling, breathing in deeply. "I think I knew when he offered me half his lunch even though I'd spilled juice all over his homework. He didn't even yell."
Keal laughed under his breath. "I wanted to. But you looked like a kicked puppy."
Liora giggled softly, squeezing Rivan's arm. "And your first kiss?"
Keal's eyes turned distant. "We were seventeen. It was after a school trip—on the roof of the hostel at night. He was rambling about stars and futures and how he didn't believe in forever…"
"But you kissed me anyway," Rivan finished, turning to face him.
"Because even if I didn't have forever," Keal whispered, "I wanted that moment with you."
Liora's eyes shimmered. She reached up, cupping Rivan's cheek gently. "That's beautiful."
"And our first night…" Rivan hesitated, then looked at her. "It wasn't planned. We were in college, second year. He'd been sick. I stayed the night to take care of him. But something shifted that night."
Keal nodded, his voice quiet and full of memory. "You were wearing that old hoodie of mine. We were just lying side by side, and then… it was like everything clicked. Like the years we held back finally melted."
Rivan's voice dropped, rich and full of emotion. "His hands were trembling. But so gentle. Like I was something sacred."
Their eyes met, and Liora felt the air between them tighten—not in tension, but in a closeness too vast for words. She leaned over and kissed Keal's shoulder, then kissed Rivan softly on the chest.
"You both are sacred," she said.
Rivan turned his gaze to her, pulling her closer. "And then… you happened. And it all made sense."
"I thought I was walking into chaos," Liora whispered, pressing a kiss to Rivan's cheek, "but I found home instead."
The three of them lay there, limbs tangled, hearts aching and full. Keal pressed a kiss to Rivan's temple. Liora nestled into the curve of his side.
And even though the goodbye loomed ahead, for this one night, time stood still.
Love held them.
Together.
The apartment felt different that evening. Not because anything had changed physically, but because the weight in the air was undeniable. Tomorrow, Rivan would leave. And none of them knew how to let go.
Loira sat cross-legged on the bed, her eyes following Rivan's every move as he packed the last few things into his suitcase. Keal leaned on the wall, arms folded, eyes unreadable—but his heart was written all over his face.
"I hate this," Loira whispered.
Rivan turned slowly, sitting down beside her. "Me too," he said softly, brushing her hair behind her ear. "But it's not forever."
Keal walked over, sitting behind Rivan, wrapping his arms around him from behind. "It feels like it," he muttered into Rivan's shoulder.
There was silence for a moment—one of those rare, raw silences that didn't feel empty, but full of everything unspoken.
Loira leaned forward, her forehead resting against Rivan's. "I'll miss your laugh in the kitchen… your slippers left in the hallway… the way you hold us when we both fall apart."
"I'll miss waking up next to you both," Rivan replied. "Like it's the most normal, magical thing in the world."
Keal pulled both of them closer. "Then let's make this night unforgettable."
The lights dimmed further. Their kisses were slow, not rushed—charged with the knowledge that every moment was precious. Loira unbuttoned her shirt, not just out of desire, but to feel *seen*. To give a piece of her heart.
"I want you to remember how much I crave you," she said, placing Rivan's hand against her chest. "How much I'll be aching for you."
Rivan's breath caught. He gently touched her, lips trembling. "You don't know how hard it'll be... being away from you both."
Keal gently pressed a kiss to the back of Rivan's neck, whispering, "You have us. No matter where you are."
They laid back into the bed—three hearts, one rhythm. No rush. Just soft touches. Kisses that said, "Don't forget me." Fingers laced together. Foreheads pressed close. And as the night deepened, so did their connection.
Their bodies moved with emotion more than instinct. They were memorizing each other. Every sigh, every whisper, every tear.
They didn't need forever tonight.
They just needed each other—fully, deeply, honestly.
.
The apartment felt quieter without him. It wasn't just the missing voice, or the extra cup left unused in the cabinet—it was the way Loira would pause sometimes, eyes drifting to the front door, half-expecting him to walk through.
Keal didn't say much. He poured himself into the new business they had started right after college—an agency they built from scratch. Long hours, endless calls, shared coffee cups in the tiny office. But even in the middle of that chaos, Rivan's absence echoed between them like a skipped heartbeat.
Loira tried to be strong. She lived with Keal now—both as a business partner and, at times, a quiet source of comfort. There were soft touches at night, forehead kisses, long embraces that never felt long enough. They loved each other, but they both missed Rivan like a part of themselves had been torn away.
Across the sea, Rivan felt it too. Even surrounded by family, culture, and a new job, he often found himself scrolling through old pictures, re-reading messages, or just standing in the shower with his forehead pressed to the wall, aching.
The late-night video calls were the only thing that kept them grounded.
One night, after a long day at the office, Loira collapsed onto the bed, Keal right beside her. She picked up her phone, fingers trembling slightly.
Rivan answered after the first ring. "Hey…"
His voice was tired, but still melted into her like honey. Keal leaned over her shoulder, resting his chin there.
"We miss you," Loira whispered, blinking back tears.
"I miss you both so much," Rivan replied, voice cracking. "I dream about you. Every night."
Keal took the phone from her gently and tilted the screen toward both of them. "How was your day?" he asked, his tone soft, vulnerable.
"It was… long," Rivan said. "But this—seeing your faces—makes it better."
There was a pause. A silence that carried longing. Tension. Desire.
Loira bit her lip. "Do you remember that night in the office? The rain outside, the broken heater, the way we all kept each other warm?"
Rivan exhaled shakily. "I think about that night all the time."
Their voices dropped lower. Words turned softer. There was laughter, then breathy gasps. Kisses blown through the screen. Fingertips pressed to the phone, pretending to touch.
"I want your hands on me again," Rivan murmured. "I want to hear your breath against my neck. I want to feel you both."
Loira's voice trembled. "Say my name again."
"Loira…" he whispered.
"Say his too," she said, pulling Keal closer.
"Keal… I love you. I want you both—always."
And even across time zones and oceans, even through a screen, they shared something more intimate than bodies.
They shared love.