Night had already fallen when they left the café. The air carried that kind of coolness that doesn't bother you but makes you wish you'd dressed a little warmer. Saval shoved his hands into his pockets. Semiel walked beside him—not too close, but not far either. As if that space between them was measuring something.
—Got anything going on tomorrow? —Semiel asked, breaking the silence.
—Just classes until one. Then nothing.
—We could meet up… if you want. —He said it without looking directly at him.
Saval nodded, lowering his gaze.
—Yeah. I'd like that.
They kept walking. The path to the station felt shorter than usual. Or maybe it wasn't the distance—maybe it was the way their thoughts filled the time.
—You know? —Semiel said suddenly—. Sometimes I think you feel closer when we're not talking.
Saval glanced at him.
—What's that supposed to mean?
—That sometimes I'm scared of what might happen if we talk too much.
—But we talk anyway. —A small smile tugged at Saval's lips.
—Yeah. —Semiel shrugged—. Because I still want to know what you're thinking.
They reached the station. It wasn't crowded. They sat on a concrete bench under dim lighting. Saval rested his elbows on his knees. Semiel mirrored him, eyes never leaving him.
—So what are you thinking right now? —Semiel asked, almost a whisper.
Saval took a few seconds. Then, barely moving, he answered:
—You.
Semiel went still. He didn't laugh, didn't ask if it was a joke. He just looked at him, trying to read beyond the words.
—Since when?
—I don't know. —Saval exhaled—. A while. But I thought about it a lot more after that day at my place.
—The pizza day?
—Yeah.
Semiel smiled—a strange mix of tenderness and sadness in it.
—That day, I thought you were letting me go without realizing it.
—I was. —Saval admitted, looking down—. But now I want you to stay.
A long silence stretched between them. The train hadn't arrived yet. The sky was clear.
—So… —Saval started, but didn't finish.
Semiel looked at him, pulse quicker than before. His body was still, but something inside him pushed forward.
—Can I kiss you?
Saval looked at him, surprised—not by the question, but by what it meant. He nodded once.
Semiel leaned in. There was no rush, no clumsiness from nerves. Just the calm of someone who'd thought about it many times before. Their lips met in a brief kiss—no pressure, no audience except the empty platform and an old streetlamp.
When they pulled apart, Semiel smiled. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
The train arrived soon after. They boarded without speaking. Saval sat by the window, Semiel beside him. They didn't hold hands. They didn't need to. The closeness they had in that moment was enough.
Saval rested his head against the glass. He caught his reflection for a second, then turned slightly to look at Semiel—who was already looking back.
—Thanks for waiting for me, —Saval murmured.
—Thanks for showing up —Semiel replied.
The city kept moving outside, but for a few minutes, inside that train car, everything seemed paused. As if the moment had permission to last a little longer.
And without saying it, they both knew—
something had just changed.
Hidden Title: The Kiss