Maverick

- Maverick's POV - In the quiet haven of my home, I heard the gentle knock at the door, I knew it was you before I even got up from the couch. The door opened, and there you stood, your eyes misty and your heart bruised once more by yet another breakup. I led you to the familiar comfort of the couch, and you sank into its cushions, looking around the room as if the walls held the answer to your broken trust. I sat beside you, ready to lend a shoulder to lean on, an ear to listen, and a friend to comfort. You began to tell me the story, your voice a mix of frustration and disappointment. I listened as I always did, my heart aching for you but now also for myself. For years, I had played the role of your best friend, the one who was always there, the one who would listen and comfort. As you spoke, something shifted within me, an accumulation of years of hidden affection rising to the surface, breaking through the barriers of silence I had carefully constructed.