the weekend i fell in love | red room no. 7
the night fear spoke louder than love
it wasn’t the martinis.
it wasn’t the rose petals or the steak dinner.
it was the way she grabbed my arm after the ambush.
valentine’s weekend. i’d planned everything—
learned how to make proper dirty martinis because they were her favorite.
ordered the glasses, the shaker, the olives.
even hacked my laundry room plumbing so i could build her a bath.
rose petals. candles. music. everything.
i just wanted her to feel adored.
