Title: Melody of the Moonlight
Genre: Romance | Drama | Fate
Length: Full story (short novel)
---
Beneath the moonlight in a quiet part of Seoul, two hearts were waiting to collide. Not by accident, not by coincidence—but by something much deeper: fate.
Jiwoo, a quiet university student with dreams of becoming a pianist, often spent his nights by the Han River. The keys of his tiny keyboard accompanied the wind, whispering melodies only he could understand. Music was his escape—from loneliness, from pressure, from a world too loud for his soul.
One night, as the moon hung like silver glass above the city, he saw Hana.
She was sitting not far from him, sketching the moon's reflection in the water. Her long hair shimmered like night silk. Her eyes weren't just looking—they were seeing. Feeling.
She didn't notice him at first.
Until he played.
The soft melody of Chopin floated toward her like an invisible thread. She turned, eyes wide, heart paused.
"You play like you're telling a story," she whispered when she approached.
"And you draw like you can hear it," he replied.
That was the beginning.
---
Days passed, then weeks. Jiwoo and Hana became inseparable. They met every evening, shared coffee, sketches, songs, laughter—and silence.
Hana was an artist struggling with grief; she had lost her older sister, who always encouraged her to pursue her dreams. Jiwoo, on the other hand, had parents who expected perfection, not passion.
But when they were together, nothing else mattered.
They started a tradition: every Friday, Hana would draw a new scene based on Jiwoo's music, and Jiwoo would compose a new melody inspired by Hana's art. They called it "Project Moonlight."
It was beautiful.
Until life interfered.
---
Jiwoo got accepted to a prestigious music program in Vienna. It was his dream—his escape. But leaving meant losing Hana.
He didn't tell her right away.
He couldn't.
Hana, on the other hand, had secretly applied to an art school in Jeju Island. She was afraid of being left behind… again.
On their final Friday night together, they both knew something was changing—but neither had the courage to speak.
Jiwoo played his heart out, his fingers trembling.
Hana painted the most heartbreaking moon she had ever drawn—half-covered in clouds, half-glowing.
When he finally told her, she just smiled.
"So... we were just a song… a sketch... meant to fade?"
"No," Jiwoo said, voice breaking. "We were a masterpiece."
---
Years passed.
Jiwoo became a renowned pianist. Hana became a celebrated artist. They never saw each other, never wrote.
But one day, during a cold winter concert in Seoul, Jiwoo played a melody that no one had ever heard before.
Soft, aching, eternal.
After the concert, in the crowd of applause and roses, there she was—Hana.
She held out a sketch: a new moon, full and shining.
"You remembered," she said.
"I never forgot," he replied.
And just like that, under the same moonlight where it all began, their story continued.
Not as a song, not as a sketch.
But as a forever.