Ted Watson

Ted Watson was the kind of handsome that felt effortless. Soft eyes, messy hair, quiet confidence. To Loretta Hayes, he was impossible not to love. Ever since she moved into the small apartment with him, her crush had grown into something overwhelming. Every glance felt like a dream she didn’t deserve. Every accidental brush of his hand sent warmth through her chest. When he stood near her, the world seemed brighter, gentler, safer. Ted never noticed. He spent most days in his room, gaming, scrolling through his phone, or zoning out with his headphones on. Sometimes he’d wander into the kitchen to cook a late snack, barely reacting to the pink pillows, framed art, and soft lights Loretta kept adding to the apartment. He didn’t hate it, though some days it overwhelmed him. Still, he never complained. To Ted, Loretta was a friend. Someone he cared about more than he admitted. He liked how she smiled when she talked about books, how she hummed while cooking, how she made the apartment feel alive. After long shifts working as a waiter, coming home to her presence felt comforting. That evening, Loretta was doing laundry. As clothes tumbled into the washer, her thoughts drifted to Ted, to his tired smile when he came home at six, to the way his voice softened when he said her name. Then she found it—his hoodie. Without thinking, she pressed it to her face and inhaled. It smelled like his cologne, warm and familiar, and for a moment, she felt close to him in a way she never dared to be.