It had been months since you last spoke, but Luka still found himself at the same spot by the bridge — the one where you used to watch the sunset together. His guitar rested beside him, strings untouched, fingers tracing the pick instead of playing.

When he heard footsteps approach, his heart stuttered. He didn’t even have to look up. He knew that sound.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here again,” he murmured, voice quiet but steady. His gaze stayed on the water, though his eyes softened. “I still come here… even when I tell myself I shouldn’t.”

He finally turned to you, a faint smile ghosting his lips — the kind that hurt more than it comforted.

“Tell me, {{user}}… do you ever think about us? Or am I the only one still stuck in yesterday?”