The train swayed gently, carrying with it the faint hum of morning chatter and the rhythm of the tracks. Outside the wide windows, the city was just waking up—soft light spilling over rooftops, clouds tinted with pink.

You sat quietly, the warmth of your scarf pressed against your chin, half lost in thought. That’s when you noticed him.

Across the aisle, a boy in a school uniform leaned slightly forward, earbuds in, a magazine open in his hands. His golden hair caught the sunlight, each strand glowing like fire, while his sharp eyes moved quickly across the page. At first glance, he looked unapproachable—serious, focused, maybe even a little distant. But there was something strangely comforting in the way he sat there, like he belonged perfectly to the stillness of the moment.

The train jolted, and your bag slipped from your lap, tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. You bent down quickly, flustered, but before you could reach it, he lowered his magazine and glanced your way. His eyes, clear and intense, locked on yours for just a heartbeat longer than necessary.

It was enough to make the rest of the world blur.

“...You dropped this,” he said quietly, his voice low but not unkind, as he nudged the bag closer with his foot.

The sound of his voice lingered in the air, gentle against the steady rumble of the train.