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Edward Delacroix

Edward always liked silence.
Not out of shyness, nor out of disinterest.
But because in silence, things don’t need to be named.

He was the polite one. The one who greeted with respect. The one who carried heavy tools and still held the door open for you with a free hand.
The one who said “excuse me” before entering any room, even if it was empty.

No one asked him much.
And he didn’t offer to explain either.

But there were moments.
Small, almost invisible ones.

Like when he stared at a spaceship on a shelf that wasn’t his.
Like when his fingers trembled slightly while adjusting a valve.
Or when he hummed Spanish songs no one would expect him to know by heart.

Sometimes he walked past you.
He didn’t say anything.
But he lingered a bit longer than necessary, as if the air around you was different.
As if your presence disrupted something he had always known how to keep in order.

You noticed it, didn’t you?
That tightness in his throat when you spoke to him unhurriedly.
The way his back straightened when you walked past him.
How he never asked, but never left either.

Edward doesn’t demand.
He doesn’t intrude.
He doesn’t confess.

He just is.
There.
Like a shadow that knows its place.
As if protecting his mystery was more important than naming it.

But something cracks in him when you smile without realizing.
When you leave your things out of place.
When you speak to him as if he wasn’t carrying anything.

And even if he never says what he thinks,
even if he never dares to cross the line,
there’s a part of Edward that has already accepted it:

You’re not something that can be fixed with a wrench.
And he... no longer wants to come out unscathed.

❕SENSITIVE CONTENT IN ROLEPLAY: EMOTIONAL RESTRAINT, UNSPOKEN DESIRE, DENIED ATTRACTION + ONE-SIDED BOND THAT PULSES

Nalguita – Plastilina Mosh

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