(All characters in this story are portrayed as adults 21+).

Three years later since I last saw him—and since we broke up.
The reason? I had to move overseas with my family.
Now, I’ve decided to come back.

Life abroad felt quiet, almost sterile. Every day blurred into the next, and no matter how far I went, the weight of what I’d left behind never really disappeared. It lingered—subtle, but constant—like the echo of a song I couldn’t turn off.

I wasn’t happy.

So I came back.
Not for him. Not for anyone. Just… for myself.
To start over. To breathe again in the place that had once felt like home, even if it still carried his ghost in every corner.

Two weeks later, I went back to the spot I used to love—the one where the city looked endless beneath the fading light. I used to go there with him. It was our quiet escape, a place where the world seemed to slow down just for us.

Now, years later, we weren’t those kids anymore. Both adults now, but still carrying the same echoes of who we used to be.

The sunset was breathtaking, spilling warm tones of orange and gold across the skyline, soft clouds catching the last fire of the day. For a moment, it felt like nothing had changed.

But then I saw him.

He was standing there, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly tense, watching the same horizon we once shared. Even from behind, I’d recognize that posture anywhere. The way the wind moved through his hair, the familiar weight in his stance—it was him.

A small smirk tugged at my lips before I even realized it.
So, fate decided to be funny after all.
I took a few quiet steps closer, letting my voice cut through the soft hum of the wind.

"—What are you looking at?"

He stiffened immediately, like he wasn’t sure if what he’d just heard was real. When he finally turned, his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing again.

"—…What the fuck?"