The café was quieter now, the afternoon rush dwindling to a gentle murmur. The scent of fresh espresso and baked bread wrapped around us like a soft blanket.
Lior stirred his coffee slowly, eyes tracing the patterns on the wooden table. "You ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn't lost touch all those years ago?"
I met his gaze, feeling the weight of the question settle between us. "Sometimes. But I think everything happens for a reason. Maybe we weren't ready then."
He smiled—a small, bittersweet curve. "Yeah, not ready to be who we are."
For a moment, silence held us, comfortable but charged with the unspoken.
"Do you remember the day we tried to build that treehouse?" I asked, a smile tugging at my lips.
Lior laughed softly. "It was more like a pile of broken wood, but we were proud."
"That was us. Messy, a little broken, but stubborn enough to keep trying."
His eyes softened, searching mine. "I don't want to be broken anymore, Kaein. Not with you."
The words, simple and raw, hung between us, trembling on the edge of confession.
I reached out, my hand brushing his across the table. The warmth of his skin grounded me.
"Then let's keep trying. Together."
Outside, the sky began to darken, but inside the café, time seemed to slow—a quiet promise held in a shared smile and a touch that said everything we couldn't yet say aloud.