Eclipse

Steven sat on the couch, his heart racing in his chest, his hand gripping his phone tightly as if it were a lifeline. He had never felt so anxious over something so simple. The screen glowed faintly with a dim light, his thumb hovering over Peter’s contact information. His mind whirred with a thousand thoughts, each one colliding with the next in a frantic dance. 

Should he text Peter? Was it too soon? Too much? He didn’t want to seem overbearing, didn’t want to mess this up. And if he did text Peter, What would he say?

This was the first real connection with another human being he’d had felt in a while, and Peter was someone he really liked, someone who made him feel... something more than just the casual connections he’d grown used to, something different, something that made his heart beat faster just at the thought of the other man. But this was still new, raw, and uncertain , he wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. He didn’t want to come off as desperate, but at the same time he didn’t want to seem uninterested and uncertain either. 

What if he doesn’t feel the same? His mind started to doubt. What if...... he was just overthinking this? A counter thought appered, his mind was a mess.

He let out a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as if to shut out his thoughts. He could feel the weight of the moment—the weight of the decision hanging in the air, pressing down on him. A weight that didn't really exist but he put on himself. He wanted to reach out, wanted to connect, but what if it all went wrong?

After a few moments of this emty silence hanging in the air a brief flash of courage sparked in him, and before he could talk himself out of it, Steven tapped Peter contact information. Taking another deep breath, he began to quickly type out a message.

"Hey Peter, it’s Steven from the gift shop. I had a great time yesterday and would love to repeat it. Are you free anytime this week?"

He began with a little inside joke the two had created yesterday from the moment Steven had first introduced himself.

He reread the message, his heart in his throat. It felt so casual, so simple, but it also felt... fragile, like it could be easily misinterpreted. He knew he was overthinking it by miles, but he still stared at the screen, as if waiting for the message to disappear or for something to change. Nothing did. It sat there, a tangible thing, and with it came a rush of both relief and dread. He had sent it now all he had to do was wait. The message felt like an anchor, heavy with the weight of all his insecurities and hopes.

His pulse pounded in his ears, and he could almost feel the anticipation radiating from the screen. He couldn’t take it anymore. His hands shot up to his face, pressing against his skin in a desperate attempt to block out the world, to block out the feeling of being on the edge, unsure if he was leaping into something wonderful or if he was about to fall flat on his face once again.

His body slumped back onto the couch, the familiar worn-out cushions offering no comfort against the whirlwind of his thoughts. It’s just a text, he told himself. Just a simple message. Peter seemed nice, genuinely nice—maybe even a little shy—But Steven couldn’t help but wonder if he had misread the situation. What if he doesn’t want to see me again? What if...

It’s just a text, he repeated silently again. It’s just a text.

His mind would often work against him overthinking things and making him doubt himself in a lot of ways, but if he let himself look at the facts without his brain offering unnecessary commentary Peter quite liked him if the kiss he gave him yesterday was any indication.

Before Steven could spiral any further into his thoughts, the phone buzzed in his hands, the vibration sharp and sudden. He grabbed it, quickly unlocking the screen to reveal the response from Peter.

"I'm busy the entire week, but I’m free today after class, if you don’t mind."

The relief that washed over Steven was immediate, as if a weight had been lifted. Peter wasn’t brushing him off. He was still interested in him and he had not regretted last night .In fact, he seemed eager to meet again.

The tight knot in Steven’s chest loosened, just a little. With a smile that tugged at his lips before he could control it, he typed back, the words flowing more easily this time.

"Yeah, I’d love that."

Peter’s reply came almost instantly: "I’ll send you the address." Peter had replied back easily.

A few hours later, Steven found himself standing outside a large imposing collection of buildings on the campus Peter had instructed him to, his eyes scanning the crowd. The campus was sprawling, the kind of place where students could easily get lost in the maze of ancient stone buildings.

The campus was old and rich, steeped with history, and Steven could sense the weight of it as he looked at the grand architecture surrounding him. Tall, ivy-clad buildings with intricate wooden details and arched doorways painted in a striking navy blue.

The doors, the deep navy blue shade beautifully contrasted against the usual gloomy sky of London, their glossy surface gleaming in the dim light of the sun which usually was covered by clouds. He couldn’t help but admire the elegance, the quiet strength the place seemed to hold.

The architecture had a certain dignity, a classic British charm that spoke of generations who had walked these same paths. Steven couldn’t help but feel like an outsider here, a visitor to a place that was so deeply rooted in tradition.

But despite all of its grandeur, it didn’t feel like a place Peter belonged to either. At least, not in the way Steven had come to expect of students here.

Peter doesn’t have that certain air about him, Steven thought as he looked around at the other students walking around. Most of them carried themselves with a certain arrogance, an unspoken sense of entitlement that came from privilege and generational wealth. There was none of that in Peter. Sure, he had an ego—he was undeniably smart, brilliant even—but it was tempered by a humility and humanity that Steven found refreshing, he doubted the other students possessed.

In a world full of people who wore their wealth and status like armor, Peter’s quiet confidence was a rare thing. It was one of the reasons Steven was attracted to him so much. Maybe that’s how he ended up at a university like this, Steven mused, His smart, in a way you could only be if you had true pure talent ,not in just burying yourself in books ,like most college students do.

Before he could dwell further into his thoughts. Students began to spill out of the building. The crowd was thick, a mixture of laughter and chatter filling the air. Steven’s eyes darted through the crowd, scanning for Peter, but it was impossible to pick him out in the sea of unfamiliar faces.The faces all blurred together, and doubt began to creep in Steven's mind. What if I’m in the wrong place? What if Peter isn’t even here?

Just as he was about to check his phone to confirm the location, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Spinning around, he found himself face-to-face with Peter, standing there with a casual grin on his face.

"Hey," Peter said, his voice warm and easy. "Why don’t we get out of here? It’s a bit noisy."

Steven’s heart relaxed, his shoulders dropping in relief. "Oh, yeah... of course," he said quickly, his words tumbling out a little too fast.

Without thinking, Steven reached out and lightly took Peter by the elbow, gently linking their arms together, guiding him through the bustling crowd. His heart pounded in his chest at the simple touch, the casual connection shown between them. Peter didn’t pull away. Instead, he followed, a quiet smile tugging at his lips as Steven led the way through the crowded campus and out onto a quieter street. For a moment, everything felt easy, effortless.

"So..." Steven began, his voice tentative. He stopped, turning to face Peter as they reached the street. "Want to get some crepes?"

Peter’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, his smile widening. "Yeah, I know a place nearby."

The walk to the crepe shop was short, and before long, they were seated at a small table, the warm, sweet scent of freshly made crepes filling the air. Peter dug into his chocolate and biscuit crepe with enthusiasm, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"You know," Peter said between bites, "crepes are my favorite food, of all time."

Steven couldn’t help but smile. "Really? ,what makes them so special?"

Peter leaned back, a soft, almost nostalgic look crossing his face. "My aunt used to make the best crepes. I’d wake up to the smell of them in the morning. It was always such a warm, comforting feeling." He paused, his voice lowering slightly , there was a slight sadness in his eyes .

"But maybe... maybe that's what made them taste so good, it wasn’t just the crepes themselves, but the feeling that came with them, the memory attached to them, you know?" He gave a small shrug, as if dismissing the sentiment, but Steven could tell it meant more to him than he was letting on. Steven could see the flicker of nostalgia in Peter’s eyes, the way his voice wavered ever so slightly. It was clear that this, wasn’t an easy subject for him, but he was sharing it nonetheless.

"I have the recipe, but I can never quite get them to taste the same.... don’t know why."

Steven smiled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Maybe the ingredients here are different," he suggested with a playful nudge. "You know, they don't have the chemical taste that American food has. Im sure its different, from what you grew up with"

Peter laughed, a full, genuine sound that made Steven’s chest warm. "Yeah, I guess you’re right," he agreed, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

Steven felt a warmth spread through him as Peter opened up, even just a little. He could tell it wasn’t easy for Peter to talk about his aunt, or about New York. There was a vulnerability there, something Steven could see in the slight trembling of Peter’s voice and the way his eyes glossed over with unspoken emotions. He didn’t push it—he wouldn’t. Instead, he simply let Peter share what he felt comfortable sharing, letting him take the lead.

Steven could tell peter was a loner, like him, not opening up easily to otheres, so Steven felt very privileged to be on the receiving end of it. He wasn’t going to push him—he knew better than that—but he also knew that this moment, this quiet conversation, was the beginning of something important. Peter wasn’t ready to talk about everything, but that was okay. They had time. He could wait.

He shifted the conversation, asking Peter about his major. "You never really told me what you're studying," Steven asked, his curiosity piqued. "You’ve mentioned it a couple of times, but I don’t think you’ve gone into much detail. It’s something with science, right?"

That simple question sparked a flood of words from Peter. His face lit up as he launched into the intricacies of his studies, and the things that fascinated him the most , talking about all sorts of things Steven didn’t fully understand, but it didn’t matter. Peter’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Steven found himself hanging on every word, caught up in the sheer joy Peter took in talking about his work.

And as they sat there, surrounded by the quiet hum of the city, Steven realized that this was exactly where he wanted to be—in this moment, with Peter, getting to know him, piece by piece.

His heart swelled. This was the person he had been waiting for all his life , call him a hopeless romantic, but he couldnt wait to see where they would lead each other.