Lili sat cross-legged on her bed, phone balanced on her lap. Her notebook lay open beside her, but today she wasn't thinking about college applications or volleyball drills. She was thinking about him — Dewdrop.
Dewdrop: Can I tell you something?
Lili: Always.
Dewdrop: I… booked my tickets.
Her heart skipped. "You did?"
Dewdrop: Yeah. I'll be there in three months. For real. No screens, no distance. Just… us.
Tears prickled her eyes, but she blinked them back, smiling through the overwhelming happiness. "I can't believe it. I've waited so long for this moment."
Dewdrop: Neither could I. And I thought… maybe we could do something special when we meet. Just… small. Something only for us.
She nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "I'd love that. Anything with you."
For the next hour, they planned little things: visiting the park she loved, cooking a simple meal together (even though Dewdrop couldn't cook), walking along the streets she used to wander after school, and talking until the stars came out.
Dewdrop: I just… I can't wait to see your smile in person.
Lili: You'll get it. In full HD. No buffering.
They both laughed, the sound spilling across continents.
Later that evening, Lili received a small package. Inside was a handmade keychain shaped like a tiny globe, with a little heart marking India and another marking the US. A note fell out:
"No matter the distance, you're always here."
Her heart fluttered as she read it. Dewdrop had known exactly what to send — something meaningful, something that reminded her of their promises and the miles they had crossed together.
She pulled out her notebook and scribbled a quick note for him, scanning it and sending the photo:
"I can't wait either. Every day is one step closer. You're my favorite hello and hardest goodbye."
Seconds later, his reply popped up:
Dewdrop: I'll keep it forever. And I'll be counting down every day until I see that smile in person.
Lili rested her head against her pillow, a soft, contented sigh escaping her lips. Across oceans, Dewdrop sat by his window, watching the sun set, holding her note close.
For the first time in a long while, the distance felt less like a barrier and more like a bridge — one they were both walking toward, step by step, heart to heart.
And in that quiet certainty, they knew: soon, their screens would be replaced by real touch, real laughter, real moments. And everything they had promised each other — every shared laugh, every hair tie battle, every quiet word in the night — would finally live in the same space.