To tell the truth, these past two months had been like a full-on sensory refresh. I wasn't even looking for a boyfriend. That wasn't the plan. But Kaelen somehow made every interaction feel new.
I started feeling like… a girl.
Like a teenage girl, to be exact.
Sheesh. That sounds creepy just saying it out loud. So I better not.
There was just something about the way Kaelen listened.
Not just hearing—but listening. Like he could catch the pauses between my words. Like he noticed the parts of me that still chose silence… and didn't try to pry them open.
That alone was so rare.
Most people, once they found out I had "a sixth sense," either pulled away or leaned in for all the wrong reasons. Some got nervous. Some got weird. Others turned curious in a way that felt a little too invasive—like I was some deck of oracle cards, waiting to be shuffled.
But Kaelen…
He asked me this:
Do your senses ever get tired?"
I blinked at the screen.
Dunno." I typed back.
Am I allowed to refuse? I never ask myself that. It's like puzzle in a way and very clear one in the other way."
He didn't ask me to explain. Didn't poke. Didn't try to sound smart.
He just sent:
You are amazing. My dear little shaman."
And bam. Just like that, I felt seen.
Not the gifted version of me. Not the weird, cool, mysterious girl people either romanticized or ghosted.
Just... me.
We weren't in constant contact. That was another thing I appreciated.
He didn't hover. Didn't flood my inbox like some overexcited pen pal. He'd just randomly drop a location pin when he got to a new place for work.
No message. No caption. Just... shared location.
Which I often replied to with:
???"
Classic.
But the way he left space like that—it did something. It let me breathe.
Let me be.
And quietly, something else began to stir.
The flashes.
Not full-on visions. Not dreams either.
Just... moments. Little sensory ripples.
Like—
The scratchy touch of wool on my collarbone.
The feeling of cold mist and sun on bare skin.
The green of the forest, too vivid to be memory.
Eyes—deep, so deep—locking with mine.
They came and went. No warning. No logic.
But every time Kaelen and I grew closer, those flashes sharpened. Like something ancient in me was turning its face to the light again.
I will see you tomorrow."
That was all he said.
I stared at the screen for a long time. Tomorrow.
We're actually meeting tomorrow.
Then something else stirred.
A voice—low and deep, the opposite of my own clear tone.
I will come to you. Wait for me.
I closed my eyes. Inhaled. Held it in.
Tried to follow the echo of it, tried to listen underneath.
Was it him?
[…]
The next day.
There he was.
Jeans. Polo shirt. Suede sneakers.
Standing by the mall entrance like he owned the air around him — calm, a little amused, like this was our hundredth meeting, not our first.
And then he started walking toward me.
That smile.
God. That smile.
The kind that says, Relax. I got you.
Not just charming — grounding. Like coming home to something I never had.
I didn't even have time to overthink.
My body just moved. Next thing I knew — boom — I was wrapped in him.
A full-on, zero-hesitation, borderline-illegal bear hug. My feet barely touched the floor. My brain short-circuited.
And for a few heartbeats, the world genuinely shut up.
I disappeared in his arms.
Literally.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, a whole and half head taller. And smelled like fresh soap, warm skin, and light woody scent. He really smelt good.
I tilted my head up to meet his eyes.
They were already smiling. Soft. Like they'd been waiting.
And that was it.
That quiet, unexpected knowing.
I like him.
Just like that.
No sparks, just a curl on my lips — a steady tug in my chest, like a memory returning.
We didn't even fumble. No awkward silence. No shuffle.
We just... clicked. Effortlessly.
Or maybe I just fell fast. (Which, let's be real — I do.)
And that day he was a total gentleman.
Booked me a taxi. Waited until I got in.
Gave that calm dad-nod like he's done this a thousand times.
Half an hour later, I texted him:
I'm home. Thank you for dinner."
He replied:
Glad that you like it. Did I pass?"
I laughed lightly. So he knew.
Yes," I texted back. Simple.
One word. But I meant it.
The next few dates felt like warm chocolate on a rainy day. Comforting. Smooth. A little too easy to crave.
All my usual awkward layers? Gone. I didn't have to hold my breath around him.
He just... handled me.
Like it was second nature.
His hand always found mine.
He took my heavy tote bag without asking.
Told stories about his job, his chaos-filled team, their messy deadlines.
Even his rants had this gentle undercurrent — like he didn't mind the world as long as I was next to him.
And always, that same smile.
Soft. Steady. Unbothered.
Like I had his full attention.
Like I was seen. Really seen.
And yeah —
He had me in just a few dates.
No games. No chase. No drama.
Just this quiet certainty…
Oh.
So this what it felt like when it was easy. When it was real.