When He Holds Me, The World Disappears

Sometimes, it’s nothing but the sound of his heartbeat that calms the chaos. There’s something about the way he lifts me up, arms full of quiet promises—every worry, every noise outside our little world, just fades out into soft afternoon light. His hold is careful but real, like he knows just how heavy my day’s been, and I melt right into the space made just for me.

It’s only him here. Only us, caught inside this gentle moment where nothing else matters—his arms, my breath, the hush between. I watch how he softens his grip to keep me close, never rushing, like he’s learned the rhythm of my fears and keeps them away.

There’s a kind of forever in the safety I feel, every time he carries me across the room. Maybe this is what home really means—a place built in someone’s arms, a bubble the world can’t break.

Tag someone who’s ever made you feel this safe.