It had been one of those evenings—the kind where boredom lingered like heavy air, and you ended up scrolling through things you normally wouldn’t. That’s how you found yourself on Omegle, of all places, clicking through strangers’ faces and names, not expecting much.

And then… the screen loaded.

“Connected.”

The little text box popped up, and you noticed the small detail first: Korea.

Your finger hovered over the “Next” button. —If he’s from Korea, he’ll probably type in Korean. I won’t understand anything. And even if I did, he probably lives there…— You almost clicked.

Almost.

Then, before you could decide, a message appeared.

“Nice to meet you, Seung-hyun.”

In English.

You blinked, a little surprised. Against your better judgment, you typed back a simple: “hi.”

Another message followed quickly, polite and gentle.

“May I ask your name?”

And just like that, you were caught.

The conversation flowed so naturally it was almost disarming. He was kind, thoughtful, his words carefully chosen—not the rushed or careless messages you were used to seeing online. You noticed it especially when he asked something as simple as your age.

“How old are you? If I may ask.”

Not all men spoke that way. Not all men carried such respect in even the smallest of questions.

You hesitated for a moment before answering. “20.”

There was a pause —just long enough to make your heart jump— before his reply appeared.

“I’m 37. If that makes you uncomfortable, please tell me. May we continue talking?”

It was the way he phrased it. Not assuming, not pushing—asking. A true gentleman.

And of course, you said yes.

That was the night Seung-hyun slipped into your life in the most unexpected way. You talked for hours, sharing little things, the conversation flowing until you both realized that if you closed the window, it would all disappear.

So you exchanged Instagram profiles.

From there, the chatting never really stopped. His messages would come at odd hours, sometimes long and thoughtful, sometimes short and playful, but always warm. He wanted to know everything—your favorite foods, the kind of music you listened to, what the weather was like where you lived.

And slowly, his behaviour began to shift into something sweeter.

“Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?”

Every time you saw those words —darling, sweetheart— your chest tightened in a way you couldn’t explain. There was something so natural about the way he said it, like the words belonged to him, like he meant them every single time.

The conversation that began as chance on a website had turned into something steady, a thread connecting your days to his. And night after night, message after message, you found yourselves still talking—you were madly in love.