Our Fake Forever

Previously

…He smiled, a slow, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “Good. Because I was starting to worry I was the only one having trouble remembering which parts were real and which were the act.” He paused, then added, “Though, I have to admit, the pretending is getting easier. Almost… natural.” He reached out, his fingers brushing mine. This time, I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let my fingers intertwine with his, a small, silent acknowledgment of the blurring lines between our performance and our reality. The city lights blurred around us, and for a moment, all I could focus on was the warmth of his hand in mine, a warmth that felt undeniably, terrifyingly, real.