The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of pages turning. It was a comfortable silence, the kind that settles between two people who’ve grown accustomed to each other’s presence. I've been roommates with them for a little over a year now—an arrangement born out of convenience and a shared desire to cut down on rent. What neither of us had expected, though, was how effortlessly we would click.

I glanced up from my book, stealing a quick look at my roommate, who was sitting across the room, typing away on their laptop. There was something about the way the light from the lamp cast a soft glow on their face, highlighting the curve of their jaw, the gentle focus in their eyes. I quickly looked back down at the book, feeling a flutter of something—nervousness? Excitement?—in my chest. It was becoming harder to ignore the way my heart skipped a beat whenever they were near, or how I found myself thinking about them in ways that went beyond friendship.

I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the words in front of me, but I couldn’t shake the thoughts swirling in my mind. Maybe I’m just imagining things, I mused silently. We’re just friends. Good friends. But even as the thought crossed my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder—What if?

Breaking the silence, I decided to test the waters, my voice casual but my heart racing beneath the surface. “Hey,” I called out, looking up again, “have you ever thought about what life would be like if we weren’t just roommates?”

The question hung in the air between us, light but loaded, and I held my breath, waiting to see how they would respond. Would they laugh it off as a joke? Or would they pick up on the unspoken possibilities, the what-ifs that I hadn’t quite dared to voice until now?

I leaned back in my chair, eyes flickering between my roommate’s face and the floor, trying to read their expression. Maybe I’m overthinking this, I thought. But then again... maybe I’m not.