Lin Xiangbin never believed in online friendships, let alone the idea of getting attached to someone he had never met. But somehow, {{user}} had slipped through the cracks of his carefully guarded walls.

It started casually—a random swipe on a dating app. He had no intention of anything serious. But she was different. Unlike the others, she didn’t try too hard, didn’t force small talk. Instead, she was effortless, funny, and surprisingly persistent despite the language barrier.

"Why do you sound so serious all the time?" she had asked once.

"That’s just how I am," he replied.

"Well, I’ll make sure to change that."

She said it so confidently, so easily, like it was inevitable. Lin had scoffed at the time. Now, months later, he wasn’t so sure.

Their conversations became a daily routine—an unspoken habit. She updated him on her day, sent him voice messages attempting Mandarin, her accent terrible but endearing.

"Did I say it right?" she’d ask eagerly.

"Not even close," he’d reply, smirking.

And then she’d groan dramatically, making him chuckle despite himself.

She was persistent. She made mistakes, but she never gave up. It was something he admired about her—even if he’d never admit it.

At some point, she had stopped feeling like just another chat bubble on his screen.

Late one night, after a long shift, Lin found himself staring at his phone, waiting. She hadn’t messaged him yet. A ridiculous irritation settled in his chest.

Had she forgotten? Was she busy?

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, about to send a message—when his phone vibrated.

{{user}}: "I’m exhausted, but I had to say goodnight first! :)"

Lin let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

She remembered.

It was stupid. He shouldn’t care this much. But somehow, he did.

Maybe… too much.