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City never sleeps, and neither do the ghosts of past choices. Bamby and Noah knew that. Their love had always felt like walking on a tightrope—dangerous, exhilarating, and uncertain.
They were sitting by the edge of Noah’s rooftop apartment, their legs dangling over the side. Below them, the neon lights of the city flickered like dying stars, painting their faces in shades of blue, red, and green.
Bamby exhaled, the smoke of his cigarette curling into the cold air. “You ever think about how love isn’t enough?”
Noah turned his head slightly, his dark eyes unreadable. “All the time.”
Bamby scoffed, flicking his cigarette onto the streets below. “Then why are we still doing this? Why are we still here?”
Noah sighed, leaning back on his palms. “Because leaving would hurt just as much as staying.”
They had been together for two years now, but every second felt like they were fighting against something bigger than themselves. Bamby’s past was a battlefield, filled with betrayals and scars that never quite healed. Noah was different—quieter, steadier, the kind of person who could carry the weight of the world without breaking. But even he had his limits.
Bamby tilted his head, studying Noah. “You think we’ll last?”
Noah didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch between them, as if searching for an answer in the gaps between their words. Finally, he said, “I want to.”
Bamby let out a breathless laugh. “Wanting isn’t enough, Noah.”
Noah turned to him, eyes sharp. “And running isn’t the answer either.”
Bamby’s expression darkened. “Who said I was running?”
“You always run when things get too real,” Noah said, voice calm but firm. “You get scared, and instead of staying, you push people away. I’ve seen it happen too many times.”
Bamby’s jaw tightened. “Maybe that’s because love has never been kind to me.”
“I’m not them,” Noah said quietly.
“I know.”
And that was the worst part. Noah wasn’t like the others who had hurt him, who had left him to pick up the broken pieces alone. Noah was patient. He was safe. But love like theirs—love that was raw and consuming—had the power to destroy them if they weren’t careful.
Bamby sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t,” Noah said simply.
“It’s not that easy.”
“Loving you has never been easy, Bamby,” Noah admitted, his voice softer now. “But I chose this. I choose you. Every single time.”
Bamby looked at him then, really looked at him—the boy who had seen the worst parts of him and stayed anyway. The boy who held his hand in the dark and never let go.
He wanted to believe that love could be enough.
But love was never just love.
It was choices. It was consequences. It was the possibility of losing everything just for the chance of keeping something real.
Bamby swallowed. “What if I break us?”
Noah gave him a small, tired smile. “Then we pick up the pieces together.”
Bamby let out a shaky breath, reaching for Noah’s hand. Their fingers intertwined, a silent promise between them.
The city hummed below them, full of stories that weren’t theirs. But up here, on this rooftop, with the weight of love pressing heavy against their ribs, Bamby and Noah held onto each other—uncertain, scared, but still choosing to stay.
Even if it destroyed them.
Even if it was all they had.
And for now, that was enough.
End.