The sound of laughter had barely died down before Mira leaned forward again, her curiosity turning more tender now. "Okay, but seriously. What's he like when you're not... you know. In bed."
Hriva chuckled softly, but the question settled into her differently. This wasn't just teasing anymore. It was her friends leaning closer to the thread of something real. Something meaningful. And it felt... good.
She reached for her drink, tracing the rim of her cup with one finger before answering.
"He's... steady," she said finally. "Like a warm tide that never pulls too hard, but never drifts away. He listens. Not just with his ears, but with his eyes, his hands. When I talk, even about something small, he leans in like it matters. Like I matter."
Zara rested her chin on her palm, eyes softening. "That sounds like safety."
"It is," Hriva said. "But it's also... thrilling. Like, there's this fire under the calm. It's not all gentle. Sometimes he looks at me and I forget how to stand still."
Niyah groaned into her latte. "I swear, I'm not emotionally stable enough for this conversation."
Mira laughed. "Shut up. You're the one who cried over a perfume sample last week."
"It smelled like my first heartbreak," Niyah muttered.
Hriva smiled, leaning back in her chair. Her chest felt a little lighter. Her hands weren't curled up in her lap anymore. She wasn't hiding this part of her now. She was offering it. And they were meeting her in that space with open arms and open curiosity.
Zara's fingers tapped the table, her grin returning. "So. What does he look like?"
Hriva froze slightly. Not because she didn't know. She knew exactly how he looked. Every angle of his face lived in her memory like sunlight. But explaining him to others felt... strange.
Still, she reached into her bag and pulled out her phone.
"Okay," she said, unlocking it. "But I swear, he's not like... posing in any of these. He doesn't really do selfies."
"Even better," Mira said, sliding her chair closer.
Hriva scrolled slowly, passing over the earlier photos, the ones from the cliffs, the ones she had taken when he was cooking barefoot in his kitchen, one where he had fallen asleep on her couch, arm across his eyes, the soft outline of his mouth barely parted. All quiet moments. Unstaged. Honest.
She stopped on one.
Jake in his music studio. The lighting low. His guitar balanced against his knee. He was looking down, scribbling something into a notebook, unaware she had taken the photo. His brows were furrowed, jaw slightly clenched. A soft halo of lamplight wrapped around him.
She turned the phone toward them.
The table fell quiet.
Zara reached out first, slowly, like the image was too sacred to rush.
"Holy hell," she whispered. "Is this what emotionally available looks like?"
Mira covered her mouth. "He looks like he writes poetry in his sleep."
"He does," Hriva said.
They all turned to stare at her.
"What?" Niyah said. "Actually?"
Hriva nodded, a shy smile tugging at the edge of her mouth. "Not, like, roses-are-red poetry. But lyrics. He'll wake up, scribble a line in a notebook he keeps by the bed, then fall back asleep like nothing happened."
Zara placed a hand over her heart. "I'm not okay."
"He sings too," Hriva added. "But only when he thinks I'm not paying attention."
"That's illegal," Niyah said. "That's actually illegal. You're dating a soulful, guitar-playing poet who cooks and whispers love songs in the dark?"
Hriva laughed, really laughed this time, the sound warming her from the inside out.
"It's not perfect," she said. "We're still figuring things out. I don't know where it's going exactly, but... I know I want it to keep going."
There was a beat of silence after that. Not empty. Just... full.
Zara reached over, touching her hand. "You deserve this. The way you talk about him... it's like he sees all of you."
"He does," Hriva whispered. "Even the parts I didn't know how to show."
Mira leaned back, a soft sigh escaping her. "I'm just glad you told us. We would've hunted you down eventually."
"I know," Hriva smiled.
Niyah wiped under her eye dramatically. "Okay, now that we've established that you're in love and glowing like a Pixar heroine... someone please tell a spicy story again. I need to rebalance."
Mira perked up. "Oh! That reminds me of the yoga instructor from two weekends ago...."
Zara slapped the table. "Stop. Not yet. We still need to talk about how we're going to meet this Jake."
Hriva blinked. "Meet him?"
Zara's eyes gleamed. "You didn't think you were going to drop this emotionally grounded rockstar boyfriend on us and not let us evaluate him in person?"
"Oh, absolutely not," Niyah added. "There's going to be a vibe check. And maybe a dinner. With wine. And sharp questions."
"You guys..." Hriva trailed off, overwhelmed, a little nervous, but somehow glowing brighter than before.
Mira grinned. "Too late. It's happening. We're invested now."
And somewhere between the gentle teasing and the quiet declarations, Hriva felt something inside her shift.
She wasn't alone in this love anymore.
She had shared it. And her world, already full, had just stretched wider.