The café was quiet that morning, the kind of place where the scent of roasted coffee beans clung to the air and the soft hum of conversation barely touched the silence.
Ayu arrived first. She chose a seat by the window, her hands wrapped tightly around a warm cup she hadn't touched. Her eyes flicked toward the door every few seconds, her heart beating so fast it almost hurt.
What if he doesn't come? What if he sees me and turns away?
She shook her head, pressing her lips together. No—this was Luv. The one person who had listened without judgment, who had believed in her dreams when no one else did. He wouldn't run.
Still, her fingers trembled as she adjusted her jacket sleeve.
The door opened.
A figure stepped in—tall, broad-shouldered, dark jacket, black hair falling slightly over his eyes. He scanned the room, sharp gaze flicking over every face until it landed on her.
In that instant, the noise of the café seemed to vanish.
Ayu's breath caught. She had seen him in pictures, but photographs had never carried the weight of his presence. There was something about the way he moved—quiet, controlled, like a shadow that could vanish or strike without warning.
And yet, when his eyes met hers, they softened.
Luv walked toward her table, each step steady though his chest felt unsteady. For all his composure, he couldn't stop the small voice in his head: She's even more… real than I imagined.
Her hair caught the sunlight through the window, dark and smooth, her eyes shimmering with both nerves and warmth. She looked delicate, yet there was a fire in her gaze he recognized—because it was the same one he carried.
He stopped by her table.
"You're Ayu," he said quietly.
"And you're… Luv." Her voice was soft, almost disbelieving, as if she needed to say his name to believe he was truly there.
A moment of silence passed between them, not heavy, but charged—like two halves of a story finally touching for the first time.
Luv sat across from her. For a few awkward seconds, neither spoke. Then Ayu laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"This feels weird," she admitted.
"Yeah," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "We've talked about everything… but meeting in person still feels new."
Her shoulders relaxed a little. He wasn't just a shadow behind a screen anymore. He was here—real, alive, and for the first time in a long time, she felt safe.
Outside the café window, a pair of men lingered near the corner, their eyes sharp, watching. Neither Ayu nor Luv noticed them yet.
For now, all they saw was each other.