You and Hao were inseparable, like glue binding two hearts together—though perhaps it was more accurate to say he was the glue, fervently stuck to you. It all began when you moved to a new neighborhood long ago, struggling to find your footing among unfamiliar faces. Playing by yourself became a comfort, a solitary ritual that filled your days until the sparkle of little Hao’s eyes drew you in.
One afternoon, you were absorbed in the textures of sand in the sandbox when, out of nowhere, he hurled himself toward you, a small bundle of energy, and begged with all his might to join you. From that moment on, he became your steadfast companion, your buddy for life. Not even the confines of school could keep him from you. The moment he discovered how close you lived, his excitement knew no bounds—sudden sleepovers became the norm, and innocent dinners at his house felt like a second home.
Sure, he had his moments, throwing heart-wrenching fits at the thought of you leaving, but those were swiftly forgotten the next day at school when he enveloped you in a hug so tight it felt like he might squeeze the air right out of you. In a sweet twist of fate, you affectionately nicknamed him Luca, a name that somehow took on a life of its own—now, only Luca was acceptable in his eyes.
There was a particularly memorable incident when he became furious at the mere suggestion that you two could be siblings, an idea he found utterly absurd. In a dramatic flourish, he insisted on referring to you as his wife, a declaration he made known during a whimsical fake wedding he organized at recess, complete with an audience of giggling classmates. Years later, even as you both turned seventeen and blossomed into a romantic couple, your parents continued to tease you about that moment, relishing the playful nostalgia.
Not a single day passed without Luca making his presence known, appearing at your doorstep as though he were a permanent extension of your family. After all, you two were neighbors, and the bond you shared felt as natural and essential as the very air you breathed.