For two years, Jay and Suhani have danced through time — not always in perfect rhythm, but always hand in hand. Their love has weathered storms, sparked laughter in the darkest hours, and written verses only their hearts can understand.

But now, Jay stands before a quiet wall — something Suhani guards, a truth she keeps hidden, even from him. He does not seek to invade, only to be invited in. He is not demanding, only longing.

Jay believes love is not just made of warm moments and soft glances — it is also forged in the fire of raw truth, in the willingness to be seen completely. He asks Suhani, not as a test, but as a testament — to show him what she hides, whatever it may be, because their love deserves nothing less than honesty in full bloom.

This petition is not a push. It is a prayer — that Suhani will hear the aching courage in Jay’s voice, and know that his heart is asking not for perfection, but for truth, wrapped in trust.

Sign in support of love that dares to go deeper — because sometimes, the bravest thing we can do is let the one we love truly see us.

DAY 1:

"The Bloom I Guard"

You walk beside me, and my world forgets its manners.
Head turns like leaf caught in wind
Drawn not to your soul, your wit, or your voice
But to the slope beneath your throat.
That soft descent, that sacred line…
where your breasts rise like some divine hush
caught between breath and heartbeat.

And I love them.
God, I love them.
Not like they do
Not with greed or hunger or aimless desire,
but with reverence, with ache, with trembling hands
that know they are not touching flesh,
but something holy.

When you dress, when the fabric dips just so,
when your cleavage is kissed by candlelight or caught by sun,
I feel two things.

First: wonder.
That this beauty walks with me,
laughs in my bed, falls asleep on my chest.
That I know the weight of you, the warmth, the scent
that I have traced every curve with fingers slow as prayer.

But second: a quiet fire.
A gentle storm that stirs beneath my calm.
Because the world lingers too long,
their eyes drawn to what I hold most dear
a treasure not for passing glances,
but for the heart that knows the depth beneath the skin.

DAY 2:

There’s something I’ve been holding back—maybe out of hesitation, or maybe because I didn’t want to risk saying it the wrong way.The truth is, I think about you often. All of you. The way your mind works, the softness and cuteness in your voice, the little glances you give when you’re trying to hide yourself and not to smile. the crazy things you yap which are super entertaining to my heart, those insecurities of yours which are stupid anyway, moments where you unknowingly flex your literature skills, that silky hair of yours, and ofcourse, Breasts.

your body captivates me. And yes, I think about your breasts often too—not in some careless way, but in a way that feels almost reverent. They’re beautiful. Magnetic. They live in my imagination not just as something I desire, but as something I admire. Genuinely. I see all of you—your mind, your heart, the way you laugh, the way you yap when you're half-asleep. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t ache to one day see that part of you too.

Not because I feel entitled to it. Not because I’m impatient(or maybe a lil impatient).

But the point is because of your beauty—it overwhelms me. It’s like my eyes are drawn to you the way flowers turn toward sunlight in phototropism. I’m a man, yes, and being near you or even thinking of you would set my chemistry spinning—testosterone dancing through my bloodstream like it’s forgotten how to behave. My body reacts, sometimes before my mind can even catch up. But that doesn’t make me just another man chasing a thrill. What I feel for you is far more layered than a reflex. It’s not about craving the opposite sex—it’s about being moved by a presence, your presence. And wanting to connect, completely.

If you ever feel comfortable, if the moment feels right… I would look with nothing but awe. With care. With respect. I’d carry that memory close, not for shallow reasons, but because it came from you, and you mean more to me than I can probably explain in a single message.

Until then, I wait. But I wanted you to know what’s been quietly living in me.