1. “Text me when you land.”

It wasn't grand.
Not fireworks, not a kiss beneath the rain, not even a long stare that lingered too long. It was just… quiet.

Charles stood awkwardly by the curb of the drop-off zone at the airport, hands buried in the pockets of his Ferrari jacket, watching Carlos shift his carry-on bag from one shoulder to the other. The early morning was painted in pale gold light, the sky just beginning to warm, and Charles had insisted on driving Carlos himself.

“It’s fine, I could’ve taken a cab,” Carlos had said, voice still raspy from sleep, but Charles had shaken his head, half-yawning, half-smiling.

“Too early for a cab,” he had replied. “Besides… I wanted to.”

Now, as the automated glass doors of Terminal 2 loomed just steps away, they hovered in an invisible space. Half between friendship, half between something else neither of them dared to touch. Not yet. Maybe not ever.