Ryan returned to the dorm much later than usual.
The door creaked open, and he slipped inside as quietly as he could, shoes in hand. The room was dim, lit only by the fading orange glow of the sunset leaking through the curtains.
Too late.
"Back already?"
Ryan froze.
Solace was seated at his desk, flipping through a book, eyes not even lifting. Valen lay sprawled on his bed, one arm behind his head, watching Ryan with far too much interest.
Ryan cleared his throat and set his shoes down. "Yeah. What? I can't take a walk now?"
Valen sat up instantly. "A walk?"
Solace finally looked over, one brow lifting. "That was a long walk."
Ryan avoided their eyes and headed for his bag. "Lost track of time."
Valen grinned. A slow, dangerous grin. "Uh-huh. With who?"
Ryan zipped his bag a little too hard. "No one."
Solace closed his book. "That's funny."
"Yeah," Valen added, hopping off his bed. "Because when we saw you earlier, you were very clearly sitting with someone."
Ryan stiffened.
"…You were watching?"
Valen clutched his chest. "Watching? No. Observing. For academic purposes."
Solace nodded solemnly. "Purely research."
Ryan turned red. "It wasn't like that."
"Oh?" Valen leaned closer. "Then why did you buy her a drink?"
Ryan blinked. "…How do you know that?"
Solace tilted his head. "You still have the receipt in your pocket."
Ryan looked down. Swore under his breath.
Valen burst out laughing. "Man, you're hopeless!"
"It was an apology!" Ryan snapped. "I ran into her—literally. I was late, she dropped her books, it was my fault."
Solace studied him for a moment. "And?"
Ryan hesitated. "…And we talked."
Valen's eyes lit up. "Talked."
"Just small talk," Ryan said quickly. "Names. Departments. Normal stuff."
Solace smiled faintly. "You remember her name."
Ryan paused.
"…Yeah."
Valen slapped his shoulder. "He remembers!"
"Shut up!" Ryan shoved him away. "It doesn't mean anything."
Solace stood and stretched. "Relax. We're not mocking you."
Valen snorted. "Okay, I am. But gently."
Ryan sank onto his bed, rubbing his face. "I don't even know why you two are making such a big deal out of it."
Solace's voice softened. "Because you usually don't wait for people."
Ryan glanced up.
"You apologize," Solace continued, "and move on. This time, you stayed."
Valen nodded. "That's new."
Ryan stared at the ceiling, suddenly quiet. "…She was easy to talk to."
Valen grinned. "There it is."
Ryan groaned. "I hate you both."
Solace smiled. "You'll survive."
Valen flopped back onto his bed. "So. When's the second 'apology'?"
Ryan grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He dropped onto the chair beside his bed, stretching his arms as if nothing mattered.
"Forget about me," Ryan said casually, though the grin on his face gave him away. "What about you, Val?"
Valen stiffened almost immediately.
Ryan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes sparkling with mischief. "When are you going to propose to that Cindy girl?"
The room went quiet.
Valen blinked. "Propose?"
His ears turned red. "You're insane."
Solace glanced up from his book. "He's not wrong about one thing."
Valen shot him a look. "You too?"
Ryan laughed. "Man, you've been orbiting that café like it's your second home. If that's not dedication, I don't know what is."
"I just like the coffee," Valen muttered, avoiding their eyes.
"Sure," Ryan said. "And I just like cold tea."
Solace closed his book and leaned back. "You don't have to rush anything. But if you don't move at all, someone else will."
That made Valen pause.
His fingers curled slightly at his side. For a brief moment, Cindy's smile flashed in his mind—warm, effortless, the kind that stayed with you longer than it should.
"…I don't even know if she sees me that way," Valen said quietly.
Ryan softened, just a little. "Then find out."
Valen exhaled, a small, conflicted smile tugging at his lips.
"Maybe," he said. "Just… not yet."
Ryan grinned. "We'll be waiting."
***
Valen stood across the street from the café, hands buried deep in his coat pockets, watching the warm lights glow through the glass. It had been a long time since he'd come here—too long. He didn't go inside. Instead, he waited, telling himself he only wanted to see her once, just to be sure she was alright.
Time passed slowly. The evening crowd thinned, chairs were stacked, and the lights inside dimmed one by one. Finally, the staff door opened.
Cindy stepped out, her apron gone, her hair loosened from its tie, falling softly around her shoulders. She adjusted the strap of her bag and took a few steps forward—
And then someone else approached her.
The boy looked about Valen's age, maybe a little taller. He had neatly styled dark hair and sharp features, dressed in a clean jacket and fitted jeans—confident, composed, the kind of person who seemed to know exactly what he wanted. He had a confident smile on his face.
Valen stopped breathing.
From where he stood, he could see the boy speaking earnestly, leaning in slightly. Cindy listened, her posture polite but guarded. She shook her head slowly. Once. Then again—more firmly.
The boy's shoulders dropped. After a moment, he forced a smile, said something Valen couldn't hear, and stepped back. Cindy gave a small, apologetic bow before turning away.
Valen remained where he was, unnoticed, the night air cold against his skin.
Relief washed over him—quiet, overwhelming—followed closely by something heavier.
Because even now, he still hadn't taken a single step forward.
Cindy took a few steps away from the café when something caught her eye across the street.
She slowed.
Near the shadow of a streetlamp stood Valen.
For a moment, she simply stared—uncertain if it was really him. Then recognition flickered across her face, and her expression softened into a familiar warmth. She lifted her hand and waved.
Valen froze.
Then, realizing he'd been noticed, he straightened and returned the gesture—awkward, delayed.
Cindy crossed the street, her steps unhurried. When she stopped in front of him, she smiled, a little brighter than before.
"You're here," she said. "I thought I was imagining things."
"I… yeah," Valen replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just passing by."
She looked at him for a second, clearly unconvinced, then tilted her head slightly. "You haven't been coming to the café much lately."
The words weren't accusatory—just curious.
"I've been busy," he said. "Classes, stuff."
Cindy hummed softly, her eyes studying his face. "You used to come almost every day."
Valen didn't know how to answer that. The truth sat too close to his chest.
"I guess habits change," he said after a pause.
She smiled again, gentler this time. "Maybe. Still… it felt a little strange not seeing you around."
A quiet settled between them, not uncomfortable, just unspoken.
Then Cindy adjusted her bag strap. "Are you heading back to the dorms?"
Valen nodded. "Yeah."
"Me too," she said. "Looks like our timing finally matched."
They started walking side by side, the café lights fading behind them, neither quite ready to admit how much that simple coincidence meant.
They walked side by side, their steps unhurried, their shadows stretching long across the pavement. Neither of them spoke, yet Valen's mind was anything but quiet.
Inside him, thoughts collided and unraveled all at once. The image of that boy from earlier lingered stubbornly in his head, stirring a restless ache he couldn't name. Solace's words echoed again and again, uninvited but relentless.
If you don't move at all, someone else will.
Valen clenched his jaw.
What was he supposed to do?
Tell her how he felt—right here, right now? The thought made his chest tighten. What if she turned him down? What if everything became awkward after that? What if this easy, fragile comfort between them disappeared the moment he spoke?
Doubts flooded his mind in a relentless torrent, each one heavier than the last.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down.
Enough.
There was no point in overthinking this. Dragging it out would only hurt more. If she didn't feel the same, then this would be where it ended. Clean. Honest.
At least then, he wouldn't have to keep tormenting himself with maybes.
Valen glanced at Cindy, her expression calm, unaware of the battle raging beside her—and made his decision.
He stopped in his tracks.
"Cindy."
His voice was steady—far steadier than he felt.
She turned around. A single lamppost stood between them, its pale light spilling onto the quiet path, separating and connecting them all at once. Cindy looked at him with open curiosity, but beneath it lay a faint tension she couldn't quite hide. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
What is he going to say?
That was the only thought in her mind.
Valen drew in a slow, measured breath.
"Cindy," he began, his gaze fixed on her, "I'm not good with words. I never have been. I don't really know how to explain feelings properly." He paused, then continued, his voice low but unwavering. "But when I saw that boy earlier… I realized I couldn't stay silent anymore."
He swallowed.
"I like you. When you're not around, I miss you. I find myself thinking about you without meaning to. And somehow—your smile makes my days warmer. Easier."
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Cindy stared at him, her thoughts scattered, her heart pounding far louder than the night around them. Words refused to come. She just looked at him, eyes slightly widened, caught between surprise and something far more tender.
Valen let out a quiet sigh. "You don't have to rush your answer. And if you don't feel the same… that's okay. I just want you to be honest with me."
Cindy finally spoke, her voice soft but clear.
"You know," she said slowly, "when you stopped coming to the café, I kept looking for you. Every time the door opened, I thought it might be you." She smiled faintly. "I missed you. A lot. And when I saw you today… I was really happy."
She met his eyes again and shook her head with a small, exasperated sigh.
"What? Do I really have to spell it out? You still don't get it?"
Before Valen could react, she added firmly, "I like you too, idiot."
And then she closed the distance between them.
Cindy stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest as if afraid the moment might disappear if she hesitated. Valen froze for a heartbeat, his mind blank—then a smile slowly spread across his face. He lifted his arms and held her just as tightly.
Her warmth settled against him like something he had been missing without realizing it, quieting every doubt that had been tearing at his chest. In that simple embrace, Valen felt the restless noise inside him fade, replaced by a calm that felt almost unreal.
Under the quiet glow of the lamppost, two uncertain paths finally converged—no longer divided by light and shadow, but bound by the courage to step forward.