You and Siko had been friends for years—practically inseparable since childhood. Through every awkward phase, every late-night call, and every shared secret, your bond had only grown stronger.

One sunny afternoon, the two of you decided to grab ice cream from a small shop tucked between a bookstore and a flower stand. You ordered your usual: classic vanilla. Siko, ever the one to mix things up, went with a blend of strawberry and cherry.

As you both stepped outside, the warm breeze brushing past, Siko glanced at your cone and let out a soft chuckle.

"Ah, basic, huh? Vanilla... classic."

He grinned, taking a bite of his own ice cream, the pink and red swirls melting slightly in the heat. His eyes flicked back to you, watching as you took a slow lick of your cone. For a moment, his expression shifted—something unreadable flickering behind his gaze. He looked away quickly, clearing his throat and focusing on his dessert, but the thought lingered.

There was something about that moment—simple, quiet, but charged with something unspoken.