"Sometimes, love doesn't arrive with fireworks…It slips in silently through a wrong text… and changes everything."
It was just another evening.
The sky wore a soft violet blush, And golden light from the setting sun spilled over rooftops like melted honey.
The wind whispered between apartment blocks, Tired and gentle — like the day itself was exhaling its last breath.
Inside a quiet room, Time stood still.
Ren sat cross-legged on his bed, Phone in hand, screen lighting up his face in soft blue haze.
He scrolled endlessly,
Through stories, reels, borrowed smiles, People pretending they were okay.
Somewhere between strangers laughing too loudly
And memories that weren't his…
BZZZ.
A soft vibration.
Snapchat.
"Are you home?"
He blinked.
Then looked again.
A message —not meant for him.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
He could've just swiped it away.
Could've let it vanish like all the other moments that never belonged to him.
But something about it…felt real.
"I think… you texted the wrong person."
A pause.
Then—
BZZZ.
"Oh god! I'm so sorry!!"
"Wait—who are you?"
She didn't un-add him.
That was the first surprise.
Her Bitmoji smiled.
Not a fake grin.
Not perfect.
Just… warm.
A messy bun.
Soft cheeks.
She looked like someone who liked rainy days and hummed songs no one knew.
Like a sunrise in winter.
"I'm Ren. You?"
"Serin."
He read it again.
Serin.
It sounded like the first drop of rain in June —Soft. Delicate. Fleeting.
Like a memory that hadn't happened yet.
What started as a misfire…Turned into a string of texts.
Then memes.
Then…..
a voice note.
Her laugh was real.
Not loud.
Not filtered.
Just... genuine.
Like wind chimes on a sleepy morning.
They talked About school, About people who wear masks too well, About how silence isn't always peace —Sometimes it's just where loneliness hides.
Ren:
"Ever feel like you're in a crowded room but still invisible?"
Serin:
"All the time. I talk a lot, but... no one really hears me."
Ren:
"I hear you."
A pause.
Serin:
"That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in weeks."
Ren:
"You deserve someone who says it every day."
Serin:
"Careful, Ren. You're starting to sound like a poem."
She sent a voice note.
A laugh —Flustered, breathless, Soft like a breeze that wasn't ready to admit it was spring.
Serin:
"Okay… now I'm smiling like an idiot."
Ren:
"Mission accomplished."
They spoke of stars —Not just how they looked, But how lonely they must feel. Burning for millions of years, Alone.
They wondered if love was meant to be loud…Or if the best kind Was the quiet sort.
The kind that sneaks up behind your loneliness…And holds it Without asking for permission.
And before Ren realized it, The sky outside had turned navy blue. The moon floated quietly above the rooftops. The day had left without saying goodbye.
But Serin hadn't.
She stayed.
And that night, As Ren lay back on his pillow —No music, no fan, just the hum of a night that felt... different —A single name echoed in the soft corners of his soul.
Serin.