The train hurtled forward, and the scenery outside retreated at high speed—each frame peeling past the window like clipped pieces of memory.
Jie sat quietly, his gaze resting on the two people sleeping across from him. Di had leaned slightly toward the window, fast asleep, not even a flicker in his lashes. Lan rested against his shoulder, her features soft and serene, with a faint smile at the corner of her lips—like she was caught in a silent dream.
There were no words between them, yet the moment formed a picture of rare tranquility. Jie looked on, and a strange, long-lost calm settled in his chest.
It's been so long since I felt this at peace.
He closed his eyes.
And in the darkness behind his lids, two kisses surfaced.
One light as air, brushing past like a breeze.
One violent, like a bird plunging into the heart of a storm.
He opened his eyes again, turning toward the window. At that moment, a flash of sea came into view—the ocean calm, glittering under the sun, with a few seabirds gliding just above the surface.
It looked familiar.
That sea.
That summer.
The one the three of them had spent together.
He remembered the sun beating down, the sand hot enough to sting through his flip-flops. Just before he could dive into the waves, Lan had marched toward him with a bottle of sunscreen, stern-faced.
"Why is your back still not done?"
"Can't reach it," he said confidently, but with a slightly mischievous tone.
Lan rolled her eyes, sighed, then crouched down beside the beach mat and patted it.
"Sit. Don't move."
Jie immediately lay down on the lounge chair, bare-backed under the sun. His lean, muscular frame tensed subtly. His shoulders were broad, the lines of his back defined from years of sports. The heat from the sun soaked into his skin, making it warm—almost hot—by the time Lan's cool fingers touched him.
And in that moment, his breath caught.
Her fingers, slick with sunscreen, moved across his back in slow, even strokes. The chill of the lotion meeting his sun-heated skin sent a flicker of electricity through him. He stared down at the sand, unmoving, heart racing.
His ears were burning. His legs had gone stiff.
This… doesn't feel like something friends should feel.
It was the first time Lan had ever made him feel unsure of himself.
Her movements were smooth and practiced, not flirtatious—yet that ease only stirred up more chaos in his chest. He focused on the scattered footprints in the sand, trying to ground himself, but nothing helped.
As soon as she finished, he sprang up and bolted toward the water, diving into the sea like it could cool the rising heat inside him.
He swam for a long time, letting the waves hit him over and over. Only when his arms grew sore did he finally head back toward shore.
That's when he saw them.
Lan and Di, fresh out of the nearby convenience store, walking side by side, each holding ice cream. Lan was tearing open the wrapper while laughing so hard she nearly lost her balance. Di had a popsicle stick in his mouth, smiling in a way that looked completely at ease—unbothered, unguarded.
She reached out and poked his arm with her popsicle. Di flinched, then laughed too.
They looked too natural. Too close. Like there was never supposed to be a third person.
Jie stopped on the edge of the sand, staring.
A feeling rose in his chest—neither anger nor jealousy. Just an uncomfortable, quiet ache.
A kind of heaviness, dull and bitter.
Maybe he didn't understand "liking someone" back then. But he knew with certainty—
He didn't want to see that scene.
So he walked over quickly, said nothing, and snatched the ice cream right out of Di's hand.
Took a big bite.
"You didn't bring one for me?" he asked, pretending to be annoyed.
Lan laughed and gave him a playful shove. "You didn't say you wanted one."
He joined their conversation, pretending like nothing had happened.
But he caught Di's reaction in that split second.
Di froze the moment the ice cream left his hand. His smile paused—didn't quite vanish, but didn't fully remain either. He didn't speak. He simply pressed his lips together, then turned his face away.
It wasn't anger.
It wasn't surprise.
It was a brief silence.
Like something that had been quietly felt had just been confirmed.
Jie didn't think much of it at the time. He just wanted to pull Lan's attention back toward himself. Just wanted to belong in that frame of laughter.
Now, sitting in this train, the sea long behind them, that moment returned with startling clarity.
His unease hadn't started with the kiss.
It had started earlier.
With sunscreen on his back. With a touch he couldn't forget. With a silence he hadn't yet learned to read.
The summer wind had never really stopped blowing.
He just didn't know, back then, how to face it.