Prologue
He was the kind of boy who remembered names—not just classmates, but the canteen guy, the cleaning staff, the security guard who smiled wider every time he passed by. Always in the middle of things, he laughed easily, spoke to everyone, and made the world feel lighter just by being in it.
She wasn’t quiet, exactly—just selective. She had her circle, her comfort zone. She joked around, posed for photos, and showed up when it mattered. But even her closest friends didn’t always know what kept her up at night, or why she’d laugh a little louder on days she felt hollow. Her smile was real—but it never showed everything.
They had shared the same campus for over a year before they truly saw each other.
One always seen, one rarely understood.
And maybe their story wasn’t about grand gestures or perfect timing. Maybe it was about the in-between moments: the text she never replied to, the joke he made just to see her smile, the silence they shared that somehow said more than words ever could.
