"Sometimes, love doesn't arrive with fireworks...
It slips in silently — through a wrong text,
And changes everything."

The evening had painted the sky with hues of melancholy — soft violet kissed by fading gold. The kind of sky that didn’t ask questions, just quietly sat with you.

Ren was slouched on his bed, the kind of lazy slump only loneliness teaches you. The light from his phone screen flickered softly on his tired eyes as his thumb slid past one reel after another.

Smiling couples.

Dogs dancing.

A party he wasn’t invited to.

The world kept turning — and he was just... there.

Then it happened.

DING.

A notification cut through the silence like a whisper in the dark.

Snapchat.

He tapped it out of reflex.

“Are you home?”

He blinked, confused.
It wasn’t a name he recognized.
No mutuals. No context. Just... a message.

It wasn’t meant for him. He knew that. He could’ve — should’ve — ignored it.

But something in him stirred. A quiet urge.

“I think... you texted the wrong person.”

Seconds passed. Then—

DING.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry!! 😭😭”
“Wait— who are you?”

He stared at the screen for a moment.

Most people would’ve left by now. Unadded. Blocked. Gone.

But she stayed.

Her Bitmoji blinked back at him — hair in a messy bun, cheeks blushed, a soft smile. Not the fake kind. It felt like spring.
Simple. Honest.

“I’m Ren.”
“You?”

“Serin.”

Serin.

He read it once. Then again.
It felt like a name written in the corner of a diary page you don’t want anyone to find.

Like the sound of rain tapping gently on an old window.

“Nice name,” he typed, before he could stop himself.

She sent a laughing emoji.

Then a sticker.

Then a meme.

And just like that... the conversation unfolded. Naturally. Like breathing.

They talked about school — not the subjects, but the people.
How silence can be louder than noise.
How sometimes you laugh in front of others so they won’t ask what’s wrong.

There was no pressure. No pretending.

Just... connection.

And then — a voice note.

He hesitated before playing it.
But curiosity won.

Her voice flowed through the speaker, light and full of hidden warmth. There was laughter, real and raw — the kind that makes you want to laugh too, even if you didn’t hear the joke.

It felt like a forgotten dream — the kind you didn’t know you missed.

Time lost meaning. The sky had darkened.
The moon was now resting above his rooftop, quiet and distant.

Ren glanced at the clock.

3:12 AM.

He hadn’t even noticed.

And yet — he didn’t want to stop.

Not tonight.

“Hey,” he typed.
“Truth or dare?”

There was a pause.

Then—

“Truth 😌”

That night, Ren didn’t listen to music.

He didn’t scroll through reels.

He lay on his bed, phone on his chest, staring at the ceiling like it held answers.

And in the stillness, the name replayed in his mind like a soft lullaby.

Serin.