The late afternoon sun painted the sky a soft orange, spilling warmth through the café's wide glass windows. Althea sat by the corner table, resting her chin on her palm, and smiled at the boy across from her. Ethan's laugh had a way of filling up the whole room, as though the world dimmed whenever he wasn't smiling.
"Stop staring," Ethan teased, tapping his straw against her cup of iced latte. "You're making me shy."
She rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "You? Shy? That'll be the day."
Ethan leaned closer, lowering his voice. "What if I told you I only act confident around other people? That I'm only really myself when I'm with you?"
Her heart skipped, the way it always did when he got unexpectedly sweet. He could be stubborn, moody, sometimes even distant — but moments like this reminded her why she stayed. Why she fell in love with him in the first place.
Althea traced the rim of her cup with her finger, smiling to herself. "Then you better keep being yourself. That's the person I like."
Ethan reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it gently. His palms were warm, grounding her in a way that felt like home.
For a while, the world was quiet. It was just them — two college kids who thought love could conquer anything, who believed the future stretched out endlessly before them.
But love wasn't always that simple.
They were both busy — too busy, sometimes. Ethan had a part-time job at a convenience store near his dorm, usually on night shifts because that's when he was free after classes. Althea, on the other hand, worked weekends and late afternoons at a small bookstore a few blocks from campus.
Schedules rarely aligned. Most of their "dates" were hurried lunches squeezed between classes, or late-night video calls where one of them would inevitably fall asleep mid-sentence.
"After graduation," Ethan said suddenly, breaking her thoughts, "do you still see us together? I mean… in the future?"
The question startled her. She blinked. "What do you mean? Of course. Why are you asking?"
He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. "I just… don't know if I'm the kind of guy who can give you the life you deserve. I'm still figuring things out. Right now, I can barely manage classes and work. I can't even buy you nice things."
Her brows furrowed. "Ethan, I don't care about nice things. You know that."
"Still," he muttered, eyes dropping to his half-finished drink.
Althea reached over and placed her hand on top of his. "Hey. Look at me."
When his gaze finally met hers, she smiled. "We don't need to have everything figured out yet. We're young. We'll learn as we go. As long as we're together, we'll be fine."
He looked at her then — really looked, with those dark, searching eyes. For a moment, it was as if he wanted to believe her. But then he gave her that half-smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"You make it sound so easy."
"Because it is," she said firmly, squeezing his hand. "We'll be fine."
That evening, after their café date, Ethan had to rush off to work. Althea walked him halfway, holding his hand tight as if every second mattered.
"You sure you don't want me to walk you all the way?" she asked.
Ethan shook his head. "You've got an early class tomorrow. Go home and rest. I'll text you when I'm on break."
"Promise?" she asked softly.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Promise."
She watched him walk away, his figure swallowed by the neon glow of the city streets. Her chest tightened. She wanted to run after him, to hold on longer, but instead she stood still, hugging herself against the night breeze.
They were both chasing something — studies, jobs, a future they couldn't quite see yet. But somewhere deep inside, she feared that in chasing everything else… they might lose each other along the way.
The next day, Althea stood behind the counter of the little bookstore where she worked part-time. The shop smelled faintly of old paper and coffee from the tiny espresso machine in the corner. Rows of shelves towered around her, filled with novels that nobody had touched in weeks.
Her best friend and also her coworker, Mina, leaned against the counter with a bored sigh. "Your boyfriend didn't pick you up today?"
Althea shook her head as she arranged some newly returned books. "He had class, then work. Same as always."
Mina gave her a sympathetic look. "You two barely see each other, huh?"
"We try," Althea said quickly, defensive even though she didn't mean to be. "It's just… schedules. Things will get better after graduation."
Mina hummed, unconvinced. "I hope so. You deserve someone who actually has time for you."
Althea forced a smile. She knew Mina didn't mean anything bad, but her words clung to her like a shadow.
By the time her shift ended, Althea was tired but restless. She checked her phone, hoping for a message from Ethan. Nothing yet. He was probably swamped at the store.
Hours later, she lay in bed, scrolling through her phone. Just when her eyelids began to droop, her screen lit up.
Ethan: "Break time. You awake?"
Her lips curved into a smile instantly. She typed back quickly:
Althea: "Of course. How's work?"
Ethan: "Same. Customers keep asking for cigarettes. I swear, I smell like smoke now lol."
Althea: "Ew. Shower when you get home."
Ethan: "Yes, ma'am. I miss you."
Althea: "I miss you more. Can't wait for the weekend."
There was a pause before his reply came:
Ethan: "Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing enough for you."
Her chest tightened. She stared at the words, her fingers hovering above the keyboard. She wanted to tell him he was enough — that she didn't need anything else but him. But before she could type it, another message came.
Ethan: "Anyway. Don't mind me. I'll get back to work. Goodnight, Althea. Sweet dreams."
Althea clutched her phone to her chest, whispering into the dark, "You're already enough. You'll always be enough."
But the silence that followed made her wonder if he heard her at all.
That night, as sleep finally claimed her, Althea dreamed of Ethan. His smile, his touch, his laugh. The way he looked at her like she was the only person in the world.
And yet, in the dream, he was always walking away.
No matter how fast she ran, she couldn't catch up.