"Okay, my dear," Hyeri began with a teasing tone, a mock-seriousness in her eyes as she fixed Nabi with an exaggerated look. "Remember, no talking to strangers, be safe, and have fun."
Nabi rolled her eyes, snorting in amusement. "I'm an adult woman, Hyeri."
Kenji slammed his hand on the kitchen island table, making an exaggerated show of tapping his chin with a smirk. "But do you act like one?" he quipped, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. Nabi shot him a pointed elbow in the ribs, a laugh escaping her lips as she grabbed her purse from the foyer table, ready to face the night.
The clock inched closer to 8, the time Hansol had set for their date. Hyeri and Kenji had spent the last three hours primping and styling Nabi like they were preparing her for a runway show. They'd thrown advice at her left and right, all while trying (and failing) to calm her nerves. Not that she had many. After all, since the moment they'd set the date, Nabi had worked through her own nerves. She'd convinced herself this date would be like any other interaction with Hansol—comfortable, familiar. But still, a first date was nerve-wracking, no matter how much you liked the person.
What she had come to realize over the last few months was that certainty was her anchor. It wasn't about controlling every little thing—like the mystery of where Hansol was taking her tonight—but about knowing what she felt. Even if everything around her was unpredictable, her feelings were one thing she could rely on. And right now, she was sure she liked Hansol. And that, hopefully, would be enough to ease any awkwardness.
The doorbell rang, cutting through her thoughts like a sharp knife. Both fear and excitement knotted in her stomach. She couldn't help but grin, her fingers instinctively adjusting the star-shaped necklace that had become her little good-luck charm. She turned to Hyeri and Kenji, who were already making a beeline for cover.
"Okay, now go hide," she called over her shoulder, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush.
Before she could even check if her hair had mysteriously tangled itself into an unmanageable mess, she flung open the door. And there he was.
Hansol stood in front of her, his hair styled just right, an outfit that clearly showed effort, and a bouquet of white and pink starflowers in his hand. Despite the confident stance he tried to hold, beads of sweat dotted his forehead, giving him away. He was nervous. That knowledge, oddly comforting, brought a smile to her face.
He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking between her and the flowers as if the two were the most difficult things in the world to navigate. "These are for you," he said, a slight tremor in his voice that was somehow endearing.
Nabi accepted the bouquet, feeling the weight of them as she stared down at the delicate petals. "They're starflowers, aren't they?" she blurted, unable to contain the question that had been bubbling up since she laid eyes on the flowers.
Hansol froze, looking flustered for a moment. A sheepish grin crept onto his face as he scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, they reminded me of you—of us." he confessed.
Nabi couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Well, they're gorgeous. Thank you"
Their hands met, fingers instinctively interlocking. The warmth of his hand in hers felt like a promise, a silent understanding between the two of them that tonight marked the start of something special—something neither of them could quite predict, but something they both hoped for.
The walk to the parking lot felt surreal. As she stepped outside, a wave of relief washed over Nabi, an overwhelming urge to let go of all her self-doubt. Tonight, she promised herself, would be different. She would let go of her old habits of overthinking and just enjoy it. For once, it was time to simply be in the moment.
As the car hummed steadily down the road, Nabi found herself absentmindedly tracing the rim of her phone, the quiet atmosphere settling between them like a blanket. They had fallen into an easy rhythm—comfortable silence punctuated by the occasional joke or lighthearted exchange.
She glanced at him, her gaze softening as she caught the way the dim light from the dashboard made his features seem almost... angelic. "You know, I haven't called you 'Sol' in forever," she murmured, almost as if the words had slipped out before she even realized it.
For a moment, Hansol didn't say anything. His grip on the steering wheel tightened for just a second, as though her use of the old nickname caught him off guard. A flicker of something warm flashed in his eyes before he smiled, the corner of his lips curling into a soft, almost nostalgic grin.
"Sol," he repeated under his breath, testing the sound of it like it was a word he hadn't used in a while. And in a way, it was.
Nabi didn't say anything more, but she felt it—how that simple nickname, the one that had been so familiar to them both once, now brought a sense of ease, a soft connection they hadn't realized they'd been missing. There was something about it that just felt... right.
Hansol cleared his throat softly, his voice a little more sincere than before. "I've missed you calling me that," he admitted, glancing over at her with a touch of vulnerability that made Nabi's heart flutter unexpectedly.
She smiled, looking down at her lap, a light blush creeping up her neck. "It just kind of slipped out," she said, a playful shrug in her voice. "But I'm glad you didn't mind."
"I don't think I could ever mind," Hansol said, his tone low, comforting—just like it used to be when she'd began using the name for him, before time and distance had put a strain on things.
It was a small moment, but it was enough to remind them both that there was still something deeply familiar about their connection—something that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to surface again.
Nabi looked out the window for a moment, feeling the warmth of his words settle over her. "I think I might start calling you that more often," she teased lightly, a grin tugging at her lips.
Hansol's smile deepened. "I'd like that."
The nickname, simple as it was, held so much more than just a reminder of their past. It was a symbol of comfort, of knowing that in this strange new version of their relationship, they could still find little pieces of who they used to be. And maybe, just maybe, those pieces were enough to build something even better this time around.
The car pulled to a stop after what felt like mere moments. Hansol announced, "We're here," as he parked beside the curb. Nabi glanced out the window, surprised to see an eerily empty street—no cars, no pedestrians, just the glow of the setting sun and the headlights from their car illuminating the quiet surroundings.
She raised an eyebrow, turning to him with a laugh. "What? Did you rent out the street or something?"
Hansol shifted uncomfortably but then nodded, a sheepish look in his eyes. "I, uh... yeah. I know how you feel about my job's restrictions, and I wanted to make this as comfortable as possible for you."
The words hit Nabi harder than she expected. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at him, her eyes softening with appreciation. She reached out instinctively, taking his hands in hers.
"You didn't have to..." she began, her voice quiet but filled with warmth.
"I know," he said, his voice gentle, "but I wanted to."
