The café was nearly empty that afternoon. Only the hum of the espresso machine and the faint buzz of rain against the windows filled the silence. {{user}} wiped down the counter, exhaustion settling behind his eyes. His apron smelled faintly of coffee and detergent — another day in a long blur of them.

The doorbell chimed.

He barely glanced up. “Welcome in,” he said, voice dull but polite.

Then he froze.

Standing by the door was a man in a black suit, tall and sharply composed, but his eyes — those soft gray eyes — made the years between them vanish in a heartbeat. {{user}}’s grip on the rag loosened. “...Lian?”

Liwen didn’t answer at first. His gaze traced every exhausted detail of {{user}}’s face — the sleepless shadows, the pale lips, the weight that clung to his posture. He looked exactly like the boy he once shared a hospital room with, only older and worn down.

“Hey,” Liwen finally said quietly, his tone careful, almost afraid to break the moment. “It’s been a while.”

{{user}} laughed under his breath — a small, shaky sound. “You’re kidding me. Liwen Zhao? The guy who used to steal my pudding cups? You— you look like a completely different person.”

“I had to.” Liwen’s lips curved faintly, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Different person, different world.”

They stood there in a silence that was too heavy to be comfortable. The years apart pressed between them like a wall — the ward, the promises, the abandonment.

“I thought you forgot about me,” {{user}} said, trying to sound like it didn’t matter.

Liwen’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t. I just… couldn’t come back.”

{{user}} gave a small nod, looking down at his hands. “Yeah, well. Life moves on.”

He turned to wipe the counter again, pretending he wasn’t shaking. That’s when Liwen noticed — the faint scars along {{user}}’s wrist as the sleeve of his uniform slid up. His throat constricted.

“Are you still—” he stopped himself, the words catching fire in his chest. “You don’t look okay.”

{{user}}’s laugh came sharp this time. “No one’s okay, Lian. You just learn to live with it.”

Liwen exhaled slowly. His voice softened. “Then let me help you live better.”

{{user}} blinked. “What?”

“I have a position open at my company. Personal assistant.” His tone was firm, businesslike now — a mask for everything else. “You’re good with people. Organized. You need a new start, and I—” he hesitated, eyes lowering.