Buffy didn’t pick me—but I picked him, fully, without hesitation.
From the first late-night text, the first soft laugh in the dark, I knew it was real love.
He’s not the tallest, but he never shrinks in the face of life.
He’s not the strongest, but he lifts me like I’m weightless, burdens and all.
Buffy is my heart, and somehow, he gives me more than I ever knew to ask for.

Buffy was a wildfire, fierce, untamed, eyes full of sparks. Rav was calm like dawn’s ocean, quiet strength beneath stillness. They met at a half-abandoned train station where Rav painted murals on forgotten walls, and Buffy sought shelter from a storm. Watching from the shadows, Buffy stepped into the light. “That flower,” buffy said, pointing to a violet stroke, “isn’t from around here.” “Neither are you,” rav said, not surprised. They fell slowly, like leaves into a lake. Buffy left pieces of himself behind: a scarf on Rav’s easel, a chipped ring, the scent of pine. Rav never asked about the storm only offered warmth. Buffy gave him laughter, late-night stories, warm kisses.Under a glowing full moon, Rav whispered, “You don’t have to stay, but if you want to, I’d repaint the world with you in it." Buffy leaned in, forehead to Rav’s. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”And so they stayed together fire and ice, painting love in any color they choose.

I wanna watch you like a movie
I wanna put you on the stage
I wanna know what you'd do to me
I wanna put you on the tape