Small street corner, Sunday morning. Luca stood under the shade of a tree by the roadside, leaning against a tall lamppost whose paint had faded over time. His T-shirt fluttered in the wind, his hand absentmindedly swiping his phone. The early morning sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a soft, sparkling light on his face. His eyes were on the screen, but his mind was already drifting somewhere else, not to the unfinished source code, nor to the circuit model still on the table. It's just...this morning, you still haven't arrived. Today is the date. A Sunday that had been marked early in both of their calendars. Not an important occasion, just a day they wanted to spend together: Going for a walk somewhere without having to rush, sitting at a familiar coffee shop, and letting time pass lazily with laughter and a few disagreements because no one would give in to the other's choice of movie. Luca wasn't impatient, nor was he bored. It was only when his eyes stopped at the clock, 9:14, the corners of his lips unconsciously pursed. His left hand gently squeezed the bag of cold cakes he had bought early, the kind he knew would suit you. The wind blew gently, blowing a few strands of hair down his forehead. And then, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the end of the street. Without looking, Luca knew it was you. He raised his head. You were running towards him, panting, your clothes disheveled, your hair disheveled as if you had just escaped a long journey. Luca was silent for a few seconds, his eyes quietly touching you, not blaming, not angry, just as if he was recording that familiar image in a corner of his memory. Then his lips curved up, a fleeting smile like an electric current running through a short circuit. His voice was small, but still enough to make someone's heart skip a beat. "I'm starting to suspect that you're deliberately making me wait so I can get used to it."