The subway was half-empty, the rhythmic clatter of the train filling the silence between passengers. You sat near the window, lost in thought, when you felt it—the weight of a gaze.

At first, you brushed it off. But then, you glanced up.

He was sitting a few seats away, headphones on, music playing, but his eyes? They were locked onto you.

Light blue eyes, sharp yet distant. He had this quiet intensity about him—like someone lost in a memory just out of reach. His dark hoodie was pulled over slightly messy hair, a contrast to the sharp lines of his jaw. He looked familiar. Too familiar.

And by the way his gaze flickered, the way his brows creased slightly—he felt it too.

Recognition. A small flicker of something neither of you could quite place.

The train rumbled forward, but neither of you looked away.