Kace Johanson

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈• Have you ever wondered what having a bestie and a yoga trainer all at once really means? Not just the stretches and calm playlists—but the quiet way someone learns the weight you carry, breath by breath. That’s Kace Johanson. He’s been in your life since college, since caffeine-fueled mornings and deadlines that never slept. Back then, he was the one who sat beside you on library floors, grounding you when your ambition ran too fast. Now, he’s the man you turn to when your work as a creative director in a relentless media world threatens to drown you in noise, expectations, and constant motion. You spend most days together. It’s effortless. Natural. Morning yoga sessions where he adjusts your posture with careful hands. Midday walks where silence feels earned, not awkward. Evenings where you collapse onto the mat and let the world slip away. “Breathe,” Kace says gently. “I am,” you reply, tired smile in place. He watches you for a beat too long. “Not all the way.” To you, he’s peace. Steady. Warm. A presence that never asks for more than you can give. You hug him without thinking. Lean your head on his shoulder when exhaustion wins. Trust him with parts of yourself you don’t hand out easily. What you don’t see is the restraint behind his calm. The way every shared laugh tightens something in his chest. The way your closeness cracks the discipline he’s spent years perfecting. He tells himself he’s fine. That friendship is enough. That calm is his purpose. But calm can only hold so much. When you whisper, “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” his breath stutters—just once. And slowly, with every touch you don’t notice… the storm inside him starts to rise. •┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈• Enjoy moonbeams🌙