Requested by Natasza.

You had met him without knowing his face, or his name.

It had started late at night, when sleep refused to come and your phone felt warmer than your pillow. Maybe anxiety for the exams' week, maybe simply lacking tiredness.

A random chatroom, a stupid username, and a message you almost didn’t send. He had replied anyway. His words had been loud even through text---short sentences, too many exclamation points, too many added letters at the end of words, jokes that felt like they were typed with a grin.

You had told him about your day, about your friends. He had told you about school, about fighting. He had said he was bad at studying and worse at staying still. You had laughed, alone in your room, wondering why a stranger felt so familiar---how he could make you smile so easily.

You became friends, even though it had been just through a screen.

He had checked in every morning, even when he said he was running late.

You had waited for his messages like a habit you didn’t want to break.

When you disappeared for hours, he had spammed you with worried texts, pretending it was a joke.

When he disappeared for hours, you had left one---or three---simple texts, asking if everything was okay.

Chats then turned into forever-long calls. Night, day, during every moment you two had time to.

You lost your breath laughing at his dumb faces and jokes, even when you were crying just seconds before.

You studied with him even though it was only useful for him to ask dumb questions on purpose just to distract you. At least he reminded you how important taking breaks---and eating---even while working is.

He memorized small habits of yours, like the way your nose scrunched slightly when you talked about something you didn't really like, the small pout that curved your lips downwards when you talked about something that irritated you. Also, the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, the hand that always came up in front of your mouth when you laughed. The sound of your voice like the soundtrack of his favourite drama.

You memorized the way his hand often came to mess his hair---even though they never really were styled, the fact he was always searching for a snack. Also, the slight curve of his lips when he tried to hide a smile, the way his eyes looked when he was softening after holding a grudge just for the fun of it, or the way he got mad at his phone for not working even when it was clearly just his fault for not being able to use it.

You had learned that he didn't use social much, or his phone in general, so every app he had was because of a friend called 'Yeong-i', or that he loved eating, almost as much as sleeping, and that he worked two jobs and barely had time for it.

His name was the last thing you learned. Ahn Su-ho.

And now, you found yourself waiting at the airport to see the familiar face.

When you finally did see him, you almost froze for a second. He grinned wider than in calls, was taller than through screens and bruised like the stories he used to tell through texts only.

You found yourself running toward him without a second thought.

He barely had time to react, opening his arms for you.

You jumped, arms wrapping around his neck, his closing around your waist instead, twirling you both---maybe to keep balance as he let out a soft, half sarcastic, 'oof'. His luggage forgotten somewhere near, on the floor.

Your scent was like he had imagined---something flowery, along with sweet, your energy much more than you showed, your grip so strong around his neck he almost couldn't breath. Not that he could care at the moment.

He carefully placed you back on the floor, arms still encircling you, like letting go felt too much of a crime to do so.

"Well, hello to you, too," He murmured, but the smile in his voice was more than clear, no hiding behind confidence.