Milo didn’t believe in coincidences.

Not anymore.

Not after Leo.

So when he first noticed the boy sitting by the café window—head tilted down, fingers tapping absently against a half-empty cup—he told himself it meant nothing. Just another stranger in a city full of them.

Still… he kept looking.

It wasn’t obvious at first. Not something he could point to right away. The boy—Kai, he’d later learn—had softer features, quieter energy. Where Leo had been sharp edges and fire, this one felt like dusk. Calm. Warm. Safe.

And yet.

There was something in his eyes.

The same shade. The same way they flicked up when someone laughed too loudly nearby. The same barely-there crease between his brows, like he was always thinking too much and saying too little.

Milo’s chest tightened before he could stop it.

He looked away.

“Dude, you’ve been staring for like five minutes,” his friend teased, sliding into the seat across from him.

“I haven’t.”

“You have. It’s giving romantic interest.”

Milo scoffed, grabbing his drink just to have something to do with his hands. “Or maybe I just like people-watching.”

“Uh huh.”

He risked another glance.

The boy caught him this time.

And smiled.

It wasn’t flirtatious. Not really. Just small. Polite. But it hit Milo harder than it should have, like a quiet knock on a door he’d locked a long time ago.

“…shit,” Milo muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing.

Because ten minutes later, when Milo got up to leave, he found himself walking past the window slower than necessary.

And the boy—Kai—was already looking at him.

“Hey,” Kai said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’ve been trying not to stare at me.”

Milo blinked.

“I—what?”

Kai smiled again, softer this time. “You’re not very subtle.”

Heat crept up Milo’s neck. “Wow. Okay. That’s—bold.”

“Honest,” Kai corrected gently.

There was no accusation in his voice. No ego. Just… openness.

Milo hesitated.

Then, against his better judgment, he let out a quiet laugh. “Fine. Maybe I was looking. You just—”

He stopped himself.

You just remind me of someone I tried very hard to forget.

Kai tilted his head. “I just what?”

“…look familiar,” Milo finished, a little too quickly.

Something flickered in Kai’s expression. Gone just as fast as it appeared.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Milo nodded, forcing a casual shrug. “Probably nothing.”

“Probably,” Kai echoed.

But neither of them sounded convinced.

There was a pause.

The kind that could end things—or start them.

Kai broke it first.

“I’m Kai.”

Milo hesitated only a second before answering.

“Milo.”

Kai’s smile widened, just a little. “Nice to meet you, Milo.”

And that should have been it.

A passing moment. A stranger’s name. Nothing more.

But as Milo walked away, something uneasy settled in his chest.

Because for the first time in a long time…

He felt like he’d just stepped back into something unfinished.

—

Across the café, Kai watched him go.

The softness in his expression faded.

Not completely.

But enough.

“…Milo,” he murmured quietly, like testing the name after years of silence.

His fingers tightened slightly around his cup.

He hadn’t expected this.

Hadn’t planned for it.

But fate, apparently, had a twisted sense of humor.

Because out of everyone in the city—

It had to be him.

Kai exhaled slowly, eyes lingering on the door Milo had just walked through.

“…you really don’t recognize me,” he whispered.

And despite everything—

A small, complicated smile tugged at his lips.

“Good.”

For now… that was better.

Much better.