The city isn’t loud tonight. Just the quiet hum of passing cars, the low buzz of streetlights, the distant beat of music from a late café.

You and Sungho walk side by side—hands tucked in your coat pockets, shoulders brushing every now and then.

No one's said a word in a while. And you love it.

Every once in a while, he’ll glance at you. Just for a second. Then look away again with the faintest smile.

There’s no need to fill the space with chatter. It’s not empty. It’s full of things you don’t need to say.

He stops when you pass a convenience store. “You want something?” he asks softly. You nod, and you both head in. He gets your favorite drink without asking. You buy him his usual snack.

Back outside, you walk again. Now sipping quietly. He bumps your shoulder gently like it’s a secret “I’m glad you’re here.”

You don’t even realize you’re holding hands until you’re halfway across the bridge. Your fingers had just… found his. Naturally. Like gravity. He doesn’t squeeze tight. Just enough to let you know: “I’m right here.”

You pass a bakery that’s closed. The glass reflects the two of you for a second—two tired hearts in warm coats, lit by streetlight. Still quiet. Still comfortable. Still in love.