In a world that never slowed down, they found each other in the quiet.
He was the kind of man people noticed without realizing why—calm eyes, gentle silence, always standing a step away from the noise. A manga artist who spoke more through lines and shadows than through words, he lived tucked away in his studio apartment, surrounded by unfinished sketches and half-spoken dreams.
She was warmth disguised as softness. A girl who smiled easily, yet carried stories she never told. She loved quietly, felt deeply, and believed—perhaps foolishly—that even the shyest hearts deserved to be chosen.
They met by chance.
Stayed by choice.
And slowly, without meaning to, became each other's safest place.
This is not a story of loud love or dramatic confessions.
It is a story of hands brushing, of shared silences, of late nights under soft lights, and a love that grew slowly—like ink soaking into paper, permanent and impossible to erase.