The park was a hidden oasis, tucked away from the noise and chaos of the city. A narrow path, bordered by overgrown shrubs and wildflowers, led to its heart—an open space shrouded by towering trees, their dense canopy allowing only slivers of sunlight to reach the ground.
The air was still, thick with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers, the kind of quiet that pressed into your ears and left you alone with your thoughts.
I sank onto a worn wooden bench, its surface smoothed by time. My gaze drifted ahead, lost in thought. It had been a long time since I came here. When we were kids, we used to come often, but as we grew up and got caught up in our own responsibilities, our visits became rare.
I sighed. What could be so important that Grae wanted to talk in person? He sounded nervous on the phone. Did something happen?
"B."
The sound of my name, spoken in that familiar, soft-spoken voice, made me look up.
He walked toward me, the sunlight catching in his hair, casting a faint glow around him. I smiled despite myself. Seriously, does he have to look this perfect? With the way the light hits him, he might as well have a halo.
"Were you waiting long?" His voice was as calm and steady as ever—soothing, yet stirring something deep inside me.
"Not really," I replied, standing up. Tilting my head, I squinted slightly as the sunlight limited my view. "So? What's this thing you couldn't say over the phone?"
I studied him, and for a moment, something felt… off. I couldn't put my finger on it, but a strange heaviness settled in my chest.
What is this feeling?
My hand instinctively touched my chest as if that would steady the sudden unease.
"B."
His voice brought me back.
I exhaled, clearing my throat before forcing a smirk. "Well? Spill it already."
Instead of answering, he reached out and ruffled my hair.
"Stop doing that!" I swatted his hand away, but the laugh that slipped past my lips betrayed my annoyance.
He let out a slow breath, slipping one hand into his pocket while extending the other toward me. "Come."
I hesitated before taking his hand, and as we walked, my eyes drifted to our intertwined fingers. It wasn't the first time we'd held hands, but why did it feel different now? His warmth seeped into my skin, lingering. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. I must be tired. Maybe I should get a check-up.
We stopped in front of a towering oak tree.
"This—" I started, but my voice trailed off as my eyes landed on something familiar.
Grae was already looking at it—the carvings on the tree's bark.
"Do you still remember this tree, B?" His voice was quieter now.
"Of course," I murmured, stepping closer. My fingers traced the rough surface where our names were etched. A smile tugged at my lips. "Here! I found it!" My voice held the excitement of a child discovering treasure.
He moved beside me, mirroring my smile. "Our carved names from when we were kids."
I nodded. The memories came rushing back.
"Do you remember how we found this park?" he asked, a strange note in his voice.
"Yeah," I said, my mind flickering back to that day. "We were running away from our grandfathers. You let me ride your bike, and I pedaled the whole way. But we got lost and ended up here."
I remembered it so clearly. Back then, Grandpa kept trying to make me train, but I hated it. I was a rebellious kid, and that day, I ran away, planning to see Grae. His house wasn't too far, just a few streets away, but we ended up meeting halfway. Turned out, he had run away too—his grandfather had been forcing him to study the responsibilities of an heir at such a young age.
He was on his bike that day.
Somehow, we got lost and stumbled upon this secluded park.
Later, our grandfathers found us and told us that this park once belonged to the Valle family. The late patriarch of the Valle's had built it for his wife, who loved gardens. But eventually, the entire Valle family was wiped out.
Exterminated. Or rather, massacred. And no one knew who was behind it.
Grandpa never liked us talking about the Valles, as if they were some forbidden topic, so I never asked about them again.
Silence settled between us as we stood in front of the oak tree. The sun cast dappled light through the branches, the shade making the air cooler. I wanted to say something, but my throat felt tight.
"B."
Grae's voice broke through the quiet. I turned to him and found him touching the carvings, his fingers brushing over our childhood names.
"Do you remember why we did this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Of course." I smiled. "You said if our names were still here when we were older, it meant our friendship would last forever. Like a promise."
He nodded, but his expression remained serious. "And it still is." There was something in his voice, something unspoken that made my pulse quicken.
"Grae, what's wrong? You've been acting weird since earlier."
He met my gaze then—steady, intense. I swallowed. There was something different in the way he looked at me. Like he wasn't just seeing a friend.
Grae exhaled deeply, his grip tightening ever so slightly around my hand, as if anchoring himself. His eyes—those calm, brown eyes—held something else tonight. A weight. A hesitance. But most of all, a quiet resolve.
"I like you," he finally said, voice steady but low, almost as if the words were being unraveled from somewhere deep inside him. Then, he let out a soft, humorless chuckle and shook his head. "No—scratch that. I love you, B."
My breath caught in my throat.
He wasn't smiling anymore. He wasn't teasing. He wasn't the Grae who always played things off with ease. He was just looking at me, raw and unguarded.
"I've loved you since we were kids," he admitted, and it was like every word came with years of unspoken weight. "I think... I was too young to understand it at first. I just knew that I wanted to be around you, always. I wanted to be the one you'd run to when you were sad, the one who could make you laugh, the one who could—" he exhaled, shaking his head slightly, "—the one who could protect you, even if you never needed protecting."
My fingers twitched in his hold. My mind raced, but my lips stayed shut.
He continued, his voice quieter now. "And then we grew up. You became—" he gestured vaguely at me, almost like he didn't know how to describe me in a way that would be enough. "This. You became everything, B. And I realized it wasn't just some childish attachment anymore. It was real. But I never told you, because I thought... maybe you'd leave. Maybe it would ruin what we had."
I swallowed, my pulse hammering in my ears.
"But seeing you now, standing here with me, like we're back to being those two kids who ran away all those years ago... I just—" His lips pressed into a thin line, like he was struggling for the right words. "I can't keep pretending that I'm okay just being your friend. I can't keep pretending that seeing you with someone else doesn't tear me apart."
His voice wavered just slightly, but he held my gaze, unwavering.
"So, this is me taking that risk," he murmured. "Because if I don't tell you now, I know I'll regret it for the rest of my life."
Silence stretched between us. The wind rustled through the leaves, the only sound between us aside from my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
"I don't expect an answer," he added, voice quieter now, almost fragile. "I just... needed you to know."
His fingers slowly loosened around mine, as if giving me space to pull away. But I didn't.
Because in that moment, every single thing between us changed.
To be continued...