Three days passed. Noa dragged herself through work like a ghost, ignoring Ren's gentle texts, ignoring Mira's concerned glances, ignoring the chatter of the station around her.
She couldn't stop thinking about Reno. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his grin, heard his teasing voice, remembered the way he'd looked at her—like she was the only real thing in the world.
*And I let him go,* she thought bitterly. *I let the book finish the story.*
---
That night, she stayed late again. The station was empty, the halls dark except for the glow from the exit signs. She sat alone in the editing bay, sketchbook on her lap, blank page taunting her.
"Please…" she whispered to the empty room. "If you can hear me… come back."
Nothing happened.
She slammed the sketchbook shut and buried her face in her hands. "I don't want perfect. I don't want safe. I want *you*…"
---
Suddenly, a soft voice broke the silence.
"Man… you're dramatic when you cry, huh?"
Noa's head shot up. Reno stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, crooked grin in place, eyes glinting with mischief and warmth.
She couldn't breathe. "R… Reno…?"
He shrugged. "Told you I'm the best thing in your life."
Noa launched out of her chair, throwing her arms around his neck. Reno stumbled back, laughing, catching her.
"You *jerk*!" she yelled into his shoulder, tears streaming down her face. "I thought you were *gone*!"
"Yeah, well…" Reno hugged her tighter. "Turns out you're pretty good at rewriting endings."
---
When they finally pulled apart, Noa punched his chest lightly. "What *was* that?! Where did you go?!"
Reno scratched his head. "Honestly? I don't really know. The book was… finishing your story, like I said. But I think…" He grinned, softer this time. "…your story needed me in it a little longer."
Noa wiped her eyes. "But the pages… they're blank…"
Reno looked at the sketchbook, then back at her. "Maybe that means the ending's up to you."
---
Suddenly, he leaned in, voice dropping. "By the way… you *don't* need that pretty-boy singer. You've got me."
Noa snorted, shoving him gently. "You're impossible."
"Yeah. But you like me anyway."
She opened her mouth to protest—but couldn't. Because he was right.
---
They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, until Reno cleared his throat. "So… what happens now?"
Noa glanced at the sketchbook, then at him. "I don't know. But… maybe we write the rest together."
Reno grinned wide. "Best idea you've had all week