Evan didn't remember falling asleep. He only remembered waking up with his phone still in his hand and Luna's last message glowing softly on the screen.
> "I want it to be real. Surprise or not."
That sentence stuck with him for days. He carried it everywhere—between projects, train rides, and the late-night walks he took just to clear his thoughts.
He didn't reply right away. Not because he didn't have anything to say, but because he didn't want to rush something that finally felt like it was moving at the right pace.
---
The next weekend, he found himself at Soekarno-Hatta Airport—not to travel, not yet—but to feel something.
The sound of rolling luggage, the echo of footsteps, the arrival announcements—all of it overwhelmed him in a strange way. It had been so long since he had stood in a place that symbolized movement. For months, everything had felt stuck. Now, even standing in the departure hall felt like progress.
He imagined it: Luna standing there, just across from him, holding her phone the way she always did in selfies—slightly tilted, chin tucked, eyes soft.
He smiled at the thought, then pulled out his own phone.
> Evan: "I'm at the airport." Luna: "What?? Why?" Evan: "Just… thinking." Luna: "About me?" Evan: "Always."
---
Back in Yogyakarta, Luna sat on her bed with her back against the wall, the sound of soft rain tapping against her window. She read Evan's messages again, one by one, as if the words would feel warmer the second time.
She wanted to say, Come now.
But she didn't. Because this wasn't about rushing. This was about arriving when the time was right.
---
That night, during their call, Evan spoke first.
"I've been trying to find the perfect moment to plan this trip," he said. "But maybe there isn't one."
Luna was quiet for a while. Then, with a soft laugh, replied, "Maybe the perfect moment doesn't exist. Just the honest ones."
He nodded, even though she couldn't see him.
"I don't want to surprise you anymore," he admitted. "I want to plan it with you. I want to count the days together."
Luna's voice, when it came, was full of something warmer than excitement—relief.
"I want that too," she whispered. "Let's stop guessing and start preparing."
---
And so they did.
Not with plane tickets just yet. Not with hotels or itineraries. But with lists, reminders, shared folders. They talked about clothes to pack, time zones, how many hours the bus ride would take from her dorm to the airport.
They weren't making fantasy anymore.
They were making logistics.
And somehow, that felt even more romantic.
---
Later, Evan added one more line to the "Maybe Soon" note:
> "We're not there yet.
But we're finally on the way."