The next morning, while I was sorting through the day's work orders, my phone buzzed.A new message — unknown number.
"Hi! Are you the technician from yesterday? The Internet went down again… could you check it for me? :)"
I smiled instantly. Of course, it was her.
My fingers typed before my brain even caught up.
"Hi! Yeah, it's me. Sure, I can. What time are you home?""Now! You can come whenever you want."
That was all I needed to hear.I grabbed my backpack, told my supervisor I had one more call, and hit the road.
When she opened the door, she had the same smile — that effortless warmth that made me forget the heat, the city, everything.
This time, the visit felt different.The conversation flowed naturally, as if we'd known each other for years. Between laughter and small talk, I learned more about her.
She was nineteen, studying Graphic Design, and completely passionate about drawing.She showed me some of her sketches — fan arts of anime characters, full of energy and expression.
"You draw really well," I said, impressed."Thanks…" she murmured, blushing a little.
That moment, her shyness hit me harder than I expected.There was something pure, almost fragile, in how she avoided my gaze but couldn't stop smiling.
We kept talking, drifting between random topics — music, dreams, movies.And then, suddenly, she looked at me and hesitated.
"Can I ask you something?""Sure," I said."Have you ever… dated someone?"
Her voice was soft, almost nervous. My heartbeat picked up.
"No," I admitted. "Never. What about you?""Me neither."
For a moment, the room went silent — but not awkward. It was charged with something new.Something that made the air between us heavier, warmer.
It wasn't love yet. But it was the start of something neither of us could name.
When I finished the check-up, she walked me to the door.Neither of us said much — just a smile, one of those smiles that says everything words can't.
That night, my phone buzzed again. Another message. Then another.And soon, we were talking every single day — first through SMS, then through late-night phone calls that lasted for hours.
We'd talk about everything — her classes, my work, our favorite anime episodes, the kind of people we wanted to become.It became part of my routine: wake up, go to work, and wait for her messages.
Sometimes, she would "open a new service ticket" just to see me again.We both knew her Internet was working perfectly.But it didn't matter — those fake calls became our secret code, our excuse to meet.
And every time I saw her name light up on my phone, I felt it — that quiet excitement, that certainty that something important was beginning.
At that time, I didn't know where it would lead.All I knew was that, for the first time in my life, a simple message had the power to make my entire day feel brighter.