"Sometimes, love doesn't arrive with fireworks…
It slips in silently through a wrong text…
and changes everything."
The evening sky wore a soft violet blush —
like a shy smile at the end of a long day.
Golden sunlight spilled over rooftops like melted honey, pooling in corners of windows, tinting everything with the warmth of something quietly ending.
The wind threaded through apartment blocks, tired, slow… as if the whole city had exhaled its last breath before slipping into sleep.
Inside a room lit only by the fading day…
Ren sat cross-legged on his bed.
No music.
No TV.
Just his phone screen casting a blue glow over his face, the kind that made you look ghostly and alive all at once.
His thumb scrolled through stories, reels, borrowed smiles…
Strangers dancing in kitchens.
Perfect faces with captions pretending they weren't hurting.
Laughter that felt too loud.
Happiness that felt too edited.
And then—
BZZZ.
A soft vibration. Barely a whisper.
Snapchat.
"Are you home? "
He blinked.
Waited.
Looked again.
That wasn't someone he knew.
It wasn't for him.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
He could've swiped it away.
Could've let it vanish like so many things in his life.
But… something about it felt real.
Unfiltered.
Not the kind of message meant for a hundred people.
The kind you only send when you really want someone to answer.
He typed:
"I think… you texted the wrong person."
A pause.
Then—
BZZ.
"Oh god!! I'm so sorry!!"
"Wait—who are you? "
Her Bitmoji popped up.
Messy bun.
Cozy hoodie.
Soft cheeks that somehow looked warm even in cartoon form.
She didn't un-add him.
That… was the first surprise.
"I'm Ren. You?"
"Serin."
He read the name again.
Slowly. Out loud.
Serin.
It sounded like a raindrop falling on a windowsill at 3AM.
Like something between a sigh and a smile.
A soft name for a soft kind of person.
And that's how it began.
What started as a wrong message…
turned into a string of them.
Then jokes.
Then memes.
Then playlists.
Then…
a voice note.
Her laugh?
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't polished.
It was real.
Like wind chimes caught in a lazy breeze.
They talked about school.
About how some people wore smiles like masks.
About teachers who didn't get it.
About parents who only noticed when something broke.
And eventually…
They talked about each other.
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.
Breathless.
Nervous.
Happy.
"Okay… now I'm smiling like an idiot."
They talked about stars.
Not just how they looked.
But how lonely they must feel —
burning alone for a million years, just hoping someone was watching.
They wondered if love was meant to be loud.
Or if maybe…
Just maybe…
The best kind was quiet.
The kind that sneaks up behind your loneliness
and holds it…
without asking for permission.
And somewhere between those conversations…
Evening turned to night.
The sky outside was now navy blue.
The city had gone quiet.
The moon hung above rooftops like a witness to something beautiful beginning.
Ren lay back on his pillow.
No music.
No noise.
Just the weightless hum of a night that felt… different.
His phone screen faded to black beside him.
But the glow didn't go away.
Because inside him —
in the space that used to be empty…
There was a name.
One that echoed without making a sound.
Serin.