The night had grown late when they once again found themselves walking side by side after meeting in front of the shop. The streets were quieter than usual, filled only with the soft breath of wind carrying the faint fragrance of night-blooming flowers. It was as if the world itself slowed down, making room for the two of them to gently weave together the tangled threads of their lives.
They stopped at a small park. Beneath an old tree adorned by the glow of a streetlamp, a wooden bench sat empty—waiting, as though it had been reserved for them. Liam turned to Sera, giving a small gesture.
"Want to sit for a while?"
Sera nodded softly and stepped closer to the bench, smoothing the folds of her skirt before sitting beside him. For a while, no words passed between them. The silence was not awkward—it was comforting, like sitting with someone long known, though in truth they were still new to each other.
Liam leaned back, his gaze wandering to the night sky where stars peeked between the branches. "Strange," he murmured. "I don't usually pay much attention to the night sky. But… tonight feels different."
Sera tilted her head upward as well, her smile faint, almost hidden. "Maybe because this time, you're not looking at it alone."
The simple words slipped from her lips with ease, unforced, yet enough to warm his chest. Liam turned to her, noticing how the starlight seemed to linger in her eyes.
"You always know the right thing to say," he whispered.
Sera laughed softly, nervous yet shy. "Not really… it's just that, with you, words seem easier."
Silence wrapped them once more, broken only by the rustle of leaves swaying with the breeze, and the distant hum of passing cars fading into the night. Liam's hand rested on the bench, close to Sera's—so close their fingers nearly touched, but still a sliver of space remained. They both noticed, yet neither moved, as though that fragile closeness was enough to send their hearts racing.
It was not a confession. Not a declaration of love. Only an intimacy unspoken, a closeness that needed no words yet felt undeniably real.
When they finally rose to leave, their shoulders brushed as they walked side by side. Nothing was said, but both of them felt the same thing—something soft, something certain. A quiet comfort, found without ever being sought.
The days kept passing, and without them realizing it, small steps began to intertwine their lives. There were no plans, no agreements, everything simply flowed, like fine threads silently weaving together.
Sometimes Liam would already be sitting in the corner of a café with a warm cup of coffee, pretending to be surprised when Sera arrived and their eyes met. Sometimes, as if by coincidence, Sera would pass by the bookstore just as Liam was there, then appear carrying a book in her arms, like a character stepping out of its pages.
No one arranged those meetings. Yet somehow, neither of them ever found it strange. Instead, there was a certain comfort in every unexpected encounter.
One morning, Sera found herself standing at the familiar crossroads they often passed. She tried to convince herself it was just coincidence, just the same road home. But her heart betrayed her secret as it beat faster the moment Liam appeared in the distance, walking casually with that familiar faint smile.
"You're early today," he said, his warm voice sounding casual but enough to make her heart tremble.
"Maybe," Sera replied, holding back a smile. "Or maybe you're the one who came late."
They laughed, light and easy, as if they had been sharing such moments for years. No awkwardness, no stiff pauses. Just small talk that flowed like a calm river. They walked side by side, unhurried, heading nowhere in particular. As if the only thing that mattered was being together.
In the days that followed, Sera began noticing the little things about him. How he always carried an umbrella, even on sunny days. How he held a book as if it were a part of him. How he would pause to let others pass first, even if it delayed his own steps.
"Why do you always carry an umbrella? It's not even raining," she asked once, her tone half-teasing.
Liam only shrugged, a faint smile on his face. "I don't know. I just don't like the thought of someone having to walk alone in the rain."
The simple answer warmed Sera's chest. She didn't reply, only kept those words quietly in her heart.
"Why do the smallest things about him make me feel this way? As if there's something I want to understand more deeply, but if I get too close, I'm afraid I won't be able to pretend to be ordinary anymore."
That night, Sera opened her little journal and slipped in the white lily Liam had once given her. She pressed it gently between the pages, as if to make sure it would never be lost. She didn't even know why she kept it.
"Am I foolish for holding on to something so small? Or am I just afraid of losing the one proof that he once truly noticed me?"
On the other side, Liam too often held himself back from noticing her too much. Sometimes, while they walked together, he wanted to say more but chose silence. Sometimes, when his eyes caught her smile, he would quickly look away, pretending to be occupied with something else.
"If I show these feelings too clearly, will she pull away? Will I ruin the comfort we already have?"
But every time they laughed together, he realized something: her presence felt light, and precisely because of that, it was precious. He didn't need grand words or sweet promises. He only wanted to be beside her—enough to walk side by side, unhurried, while savoring the different scents of the streets they passed.
"Maybe she doesn't know… but every little moment with her is already more than enough for me."
And when night came, when his thoughts drifted back to her smile, he knew something was growing—even if neither of them dared to name it.
There were no confessions. No promises.
Only two hearts, unknowingly drawing closer each day, through simple moments that meant more than words could ever say.