If the moon had a voice

Ivy tapped her phone screen nervously, fingers trembling as she opened the language exchange app.

Med school had drained her all day—endless lectures, clinical rounds, and the quiet ache of missing family she never had.

She scrolled through chat requests, then froze.

Jinwoo had messaged again.

"Annyeong, Ivy! Did you try the new Korean drama? It's so good! You must watch."

She smiled softly. Jinwoo wasn't just a name on her screen anymore.

Over months, he'd become a light—a voice from halfway across the world that reminded her she wasn't alone.

“Some hearts don’t knock. They just arrive and start whispering.”

The video call buzzed again—not the first time, but every time still made her heart flutter like it was.

Ivy hesitated for just a second before accepting the call. The screen lit up—and there he was.

Jinwoo, with his messy dark hair and a hoodie too big for his frame, waved with that half-sleepy smile she'd grown too fond of.

His dorm wall peeked behind him, cluttered with post-its, a guitar, and a tiny plushie she'd once mailed him for luck.

"Finally, Dr. Ivy," he teased, voice slightly raspy. "Were you about to fall asleep on me again?"

Ivy chuckled, adjusting her phone. "No, I was mentally preparing for your bad jokes."

He grinned. "You love them."

She rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. A beat passed—soft, warm silence.

"I watched the drama," she said. "The main guy reminded me of someone."

"Oh yeah?" Jinwoo leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Is he devastatingly handsome and charming?"

She smirked. "No. He couldn't cook noodles without setting off a fire alarm."

He laughed out loud—the kind that made her chest tighten for no reason she'd admit out loud.

But deep down, both of them knew:

This was no longer just language exchange.

“Between their screens bloomed a language no app could teach.”