The days passed gently, like pages turning on their own.
Evan had started marking mornings differently now—not by the noise of the Jakarta streets outside, but by the small notifications from Luna. Sometimes just a "good morning," sometimes a picture of her messy desk with scribbled notes and cold tea beside it. Ordinary things. But to him, they were everything.
In Yogyakarta, Luna had her own rhythm. Classes, assignments, late-night walks from the library. But somewhere in between, she'd always find a moment to check her phone, to send Evan something small—a short voice note, a blurry picture of the sunset, or even just a sigh that carried more meaning than words.
They had stopped trying to be impressive with their words. No more dramatic paragraphs or overly poetic confessions. It was now about the everyday things—what they ate, what they saw, what they heard.
It was routine.
And in that routine, they were building something.
---
One night, Evan sent her a video clip he had just finished editing for a client. He hadn't shown anyone else.
"It's raw," he texted, "but I thought of you while working on it."
Luna responded with a voice message this time. Her voice was soft, sleepy, with the sound of her fan in the background.
"I love it," she whispered. "I could feel you in every second."
He played it back more than once.
---
They weren't together yet—not physically.
But this felt like the closest they had ever been.
No countdowns. No travel plans. No pressure.
Just quiet mornings. Familiar messages. Two people learning how to share a life even from afar.
And maybe… that was a kind of closeness too.