The roar of planes overhead was nothing compared to the pounding in Kaein's chest.
By the arrival gate, a man stood in a crisp black pilot's jacket, gold stripes gleaming on his shoulder. The evening sun hit his face just right — like a spotlight, like he'd stepped out of Kaein's dreams.
Lior Veyren.
Ten years had passed since Kaein last saw him, since they lost each other without a word, without a goodbye. Years of trying to forget the quiet boy with star-heavy eyes — the one who slipped into his heart before he even understood what it was.
And yet here he was, standing so close, the same shy tilt to his lips, the same way his eyes searched the crowd like he wasn't sure this moment was real.
"Kaein," he breathed, voice barely audible but filled with disbelief.
The name tumbled out like a question, a prayer, and the air between them thickened.
Lior had almost missed him in the crowd. It took a moment, that flash — the way the light hit his jawline, the set of his shoulders — to make his breath hitch.
Kaein Elreth. The reckless kid from Aldrene University who outran everyone on the track and never cared what anyone thought.
They had been just kids back then, barely twelve, when Lior had confessed — or tried to — that there was something different between them. Something unnamed but undeniable. Kaein had said he felt it too. Neither of them knew it was love.
Then life had pulled them apart, their phones lost, promises faded. Ten years had stretched between them like an ocean.
And now, standing here in the crowded terminal, Lior wasn't sure if he was ready to face him again.
But when their eyes locked, hesitation melted away.
"You look like you belong in the sky," Kaein said softly, stepping closer.
Lior smiled, a softness in his gaze that never faded. "And you… look like you traded your reckless youth for something more serious."
"Professor now. Forensics," Kaein said, a half-laugh escaping him.
Lior raised an eyebrow, surprised but curious.
"Coffee? Before you disappear on me again," Kaein offered.
Lior hesitated for only a moment. "I have a few hours."
At the café, the noise of the airport faded around them. Lior watched Kaein's quiet confidence, the way he looked at him like searching for something hidden all these years.
"Do you remember," Lior asked quietly, "when we were twelve, how we told each other there was something different between us?"
Kaein's smile was slow, warm. "Yeah. We didn't know what it was. We weren't afraid — just not ready."
"Not ready for what came next."
The weight of ten years hung in the silence between them, but it felt lighter — like a promise waiting to be kept.
Kaein's gaze hardened with determination. He wasn't letting go again. Not now. Not ever.