The sky is cold again
The wind slips through the door crack, weaving into strands of my hair and the folds of my clothes… carrying with it the scent of old memories I thought I'd locked away long ago.
Winter has arrived. The season of uncertainties—just like the way we stumbled into each other's lives that year.
I curl up on the familiar plastic chair on the balcony of my tiny house, the hot cocoa in my hands long gone cold. Only one memory lingers in my mind—an ancient one… yet every time it surfaces, my heart still skips a beat.
That day, I was at Ha's place—my high school best friend.
We'd planned to study a bit before grabbing snacks, but mostly, we just gossiped and… strategized for *the fateful meeting*.
Because that day, I was finally going to meet Hoang —after nearly a month of texting.
I remember the message clearly:
*"I'm almost there, about 5 more minutes."*
My hands trembled slightly; my heart raced strangely.
I bolted up from the pile of blankets and rushed to the bathroom:
*"Hà!!! He's here!!! What do I do???"*
*"Then get ready! You're not seriously gonna greet him in cat pajamas, are you?"*—Ha laughed like she might collapse.
I scrambled to pick a shirt, change pants, tie my hair, dab on a bit of lip tint, and blush my cheeks.
Not to look *too* pretty… just… *fresh*, as Ha put it.
But when it was time to step outside, I froze.
*"I'm too nervous… come down with me, Ha Pleaaase? I'm begging you!"*
*"Knew you'd say that."*—Ha sighed, smirking—*"Fine. I'll be your human shield, shorty."*
And so I hid behind Ha, clutching the hem of her shirt, peeking past her shoulder toward the gate.
He was there—leaning against his bike, gazing up at the sky in a way that felt… poetic.
*"Hoàng?"*—Ha called out.
*"Yeah, that's me."*—he replied, then glanced past her.
For a split second, our eyes met.
I flinched and looked away, my heart threatening to explode.
I tried to act aloof. But in truth… my ears burned crimson.
*"Hi."*—he said, softly, yet I heard it perfectly.
I kept hiding behind Ha as if her jacket could turn me invisible.
She stood guard while I peeked out, then ducked back—like a game of hide-and-seek at seventeen.
*"You plan on hiding forever?"*—Ha whispered, side-eyeing me.
*"It's different meeting in person!"*—I mumbled.
*"Your face is tomato-red!"*—Ha cackled.
Before I could retort—
He walked straight toward us.
Not too fast, but enough to make my heart leap. I had nowhere to hide when a warm hand gently brushed my wrist, then—
*"Come out, why hide so well?"*—he teased, voice light.
He pulled me from behind Hà—firm but gentle—leaving me stunned, wide-eyed like a deer caught in the winter dusk. Then he leaned down and whispered:
*"Hop on. Let's get something warm to eat."*
Before I could react, he lifted me onto the back of his bike. Not forceful, not rough—just tender. Behind us, Ha giggled, thoroughly amused.
As he settled in front, the beige sleeve of his jacket brushed my hand. And then—
I smelled it for the first time. Not perfume, not shampoo or soap. Just something faint, warm, and unmistakably *him*.
A scent I still remember now, though I could never name it.
The engine hummed to life, rolling gently down the damp winter road. I sat behind, gripping his jacket, eyes fixed on the breadth of his shoulders ahead .