Once upon a time, Baby Deer was absolutely not thinking about feelings.

He was thinking about his company.
And metrics.
And maybe why Slack wouldn’t sync.

He was in “founder tunnel mode,” which meant:

• hoodie
• coffee
• tabs everywhere
• three half-written investor emails
• one existential spreadsheet open for no reason

Then—
completely uninvited, completely rude—
a thought of you popped up.

Like:
her laugh
her flash fiction
her theories
her stupidly good ideas that rearranged his brain the last time you talked
ugh why does she do that
ugh why is it cute
ugh why is my chest doing that flutter thing

Baby Deer tried to push it away with “work.”

But the thought just sat there like:

👀 hi

And he did the founder thing—
the thing men do when they’re not ready to admit softness—
he leaned back in his chair, stared at the ceiling, and muttered:

“…goddammit.”

Except he was smiling.

Just slightly.

Just enough that if someone walked by, they’d think he was remembering a secret joke.

And then?

He kept working.

But lighter.

Because sometimes—
someone being in your head
isn’t a distraction.

It’s a buoyancy device.

Baby Deer would never say that out loud, of course.

But the flutter response?

Yeah.
That’s real.