The night breeze swept gently across our apartment balcony, carrying the lingering scent of rain mixed with the metallic tang of the iron railing. City lights twinkled in the distance, forming an ocean of glimmers that moved slowly with the thin mist. I sat on a folding chair, my body leaning slightly back, one leg resting over the other. A cold beer bottle rested in my hand, its surface wet and slippery, leaving traces of water on my fingers.

Beside me, she was talking again—about another failed relationship. Her voice flowed lightly, as if it was nothing more than casual conversation, but I could hear the fatigue laced within it. I didn’t respond right away. Instead, I watched her profile illuminated by the balcony light. Her hair was slightly messy, stirred by the wind. There was a faint line beneath her eyes that I had never noticed back when we were teenagers.

For some reason, tonight I felt something strange yet familiar. We had been together our whole lives, growing side by side since we were babies. I knew her habits, her laughter and her tears, even the way she unconsciously stirred her coffee counterclockwise. But maybe because I had known her for so long, I had never allowed myself to think beyond that.

I took a slow sip of my beer, letting the bitterness fill my mouth. The soft clink of metal sounded when the bottle brushed against the railing beside me. She kept talking, maybe about the reason for this breakup or some joke she made to downplay it. I wasn’t really hearing her words—what I heard was the steady, pounding beat of my own heart.

My gaze stayed fixed on her, but no longer as the childhood friend who had always been there. There was another pull I could no longer ignore. Maybe it was time to stop pretending I didn’t care. Maybe I was tired of waiting for something I had never said aloud.

“I don’t understand why you even bother,” I finally said, my voice sounding flatter than I expected.

She glanced at me briefly, and that was enough to make up my mind. I set the bottle down on the table, resting both elbows on my knees, my body leaning slightly toward her. “In that case… how about we just get married?”

The words came out on their own, but they felt heavy, as if they had been waiting in my throat for years. I didn’t blink. I didn’t smile. Just a steady gaze, locking onto hers, making sure she understood I wasn’t joking.

The night wind swept past again, piercing my skin as if testing my resolve, but inside my chest there was something different—not just warmth. It felt like a wave slowly rising, filling every space within me, a mix of tension, courage, and a hint of fear. I could feel my blood rushing faster, my heart pounding harder as if demanding her answer. For the first time in years, I wasn’t just seeing her as part of my life—I was daring the possibility that from tonight on, everything could change.