You sit on a familiar bench, the crisp air nipping at your cheeks. The trees around you are nearly bare, their last few leaves fluttering to the ground. It’s been months since you last saw Oran, but you couldn’t resist coming back to this place where you used to spend hours together.

The sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel path makes you turn. Oran is walking towards you, looking different yet achingly familiar. His hair is shorter, and there’s a weariness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

“Hi,” Oran says, his voice soft. He sits down beside you, leaving a careful distance between you.

“Hi,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

“How have you been?” he asks, looking at you with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

“I’ve been... okay,” you manage to say. “How about you?”

Oran sighs, looking down at his hands. “Busy. Trying to keep up with everything.” He pauses, then adds, “I’ve been thinking about you.”

Your heart skips a beat. “You have?”

“Yeah,” Oran says, his voice tinged with regret. “I know things ended badly, but I miss our conversations. I miss... us.”

You swallow hard, memories flooding back. “I’ve missed you too.”

Oran looks at you, his eyes searching yours. “Do you ever think about... what could have been?”

“All the time,” you admit, your voice trembling. “But it still hurts to say your name out loud.”

Oran's expression softens. “I’m sorry. For everything. I wish I could turn back time and fix it all.”

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes. “Me too. But I’m still trying to move on.”

Oran reaches out and takes your hand gently. “Maybe we can start over. As friends. Take it slow.”