Arrival
I fell in love with my teacher at college.
It didn’t happen all at once. It was quiet. Gentle. The kind of love that grows without asking permission. One day, after class, he asked me something that made my heart catch.
“Would you be willing to stay in my house for a while?”
He said it calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But when he told me it was a mansion — beautiful, spacious, quiet — I felt overwhelmed. Not intimidated… just filled with wonder.
I said yes.
When we arrived, the house stood in front of me like something familiar I couldn’t quite place. It was large, but not cold. Beautiful, but not distant. It felt… welcoming.
He opened the door, and I stepped inside.
Immediately, I felt it.
Nostalgia.
Luxury.
Warmth.
I walked slowly, taking in the details. The walls were lined with picture frames — elegant, softly lit. As I looked closer, I realized something. The pictures weren’t random. They mapped a timeline… moments unfolding one after another, like a life quietly recorded.
Something inside me stirred.
I turned and looked at Jason.
He met my eyes and nodded gently, as if my intuition had spoken correctly.
We moved into the living room.
To my left, behind a polished counter, stood a man I hadn’t noticed at first. He wore a long-sleeved black silk button-up shirt, tucked neatly into matching black slacks. His movements were calm and unhurried as he poured a drink — purple liquid with glitter softly swirling inside.
He looked up at me.
His eyes were warm, knowing.
“Are you new?” he asked gently.
I lifted my head slightly, ready to nod in response — but before I could, Jason shook his head softly.
“No,” he said. “She’s been here before.”
I turned to him, surprised.
“I have?”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “Many times.”
I didn’t remember.
And yet… something inside me relaxed. It felt okay that I didn’t. Like the memory wasn’t necessary for the truth to remain.
Then something caught my eye.
I turned toward the window.
Outside, in the soft afternoon light, a man stood at a workbench. His movements were steady, careful. He worked with quiet intention, a gentle smile resting on his face.
My heart softened instantly.
“Carpenter,” I said quietly.
I walked closer to the window, lifted it gently, and leaned forward slightly, just enough to see him more clearly.
He didn’t look up — but somehow I felt like he knew I was there.
My voice dropped to almost a whisper.
“My beloved.”
-Metal Floor-
Before she realized what was happening, Shawn was summoning her upstairs again — higher than she had gone before.
She climbed the stairs slowly at first, her hand gliding along the railing, feeling anticipation build with every step. The air felt different the higher she went — lighter, warmer, filled with something she couldn't quite name.
By the time she reached the top floor, her heart was already beating faster.
She stepped into the hallway.
And everything opened.
The walls dissolved into a vast expanse.
Sky surrounded her — endless, luminous, soft clouds drifting in gentle motion. The space stretched infinitely in every direction, as though she had stepped into heaven itself. Beneath her feet, the floor shifted into something springy and metallic, a bouncing surface that welcomed her weight and returned it with gentle lift.
She inhaled sharply.
Jeremiah.
His intoxicating presence filled everything.
She lifted her arms instinctively, hands turning toward him, fingers stretching forward as though reaching for something she had always known but never fully held. Her feet moved — stamping softly on the metallic floor — each step graceful, hungry, alive.
She began to dance.
Not choreographed.
Not planned.
Just movement.
Her dress flowed around her with each turn, fabric catching the soft currents of air. She spun, stepped, lifted, and landed, the floor responding beneath her like it was alive.
He was the floor beneath her feet.
He was the sky surrounding her.
He was the presence filling her lungs.
And then—
He appeared.
Walking toward her.
Short brown hair.
A soft cream-colored shirt, flowing gently as he moved.
Tan pants, simple and warm, grounded yet radiant.
She slowed, her dance becoming softer, more reverent.
She could still feel him everywhere.
But now… he was in front of her.
Close.
Her breath trembled.
She stepped toward him.
Her hands, still lifted, finally lowered toward his chest, fingertips brushing the fabric of his shirt. Warmth spread through her instantly — not just where she touched him, but everywhere.
She felt him all around her.
She saw him in front of her.
And now…
She received him.
Her hands rested against him gently, almost in awe. He smiled softly, eyes warm, welcoming, completely present. The sky around them drifted slowly, clouds moving like breath.
She stepped closer.
He opened his arms.
And she moved into them without hesitation, her body fitting against his like she had always belonged there.
The dance slowed into stillness.
But the movement never truly stopped.
Because now…
She was dancing in his presence.
And he was holding her inside it. 🌥️💓
