The room felt like it was holding its breath.
Outside, New York shimmered under its final evening sky. Traffic murmured in the distance, but here—wrapped up in Chan's arms—there was only quiet. Only warmth. Only you.
You laid in bed together, bodies pressed close, soft sweats and tangled legs, your head resting on his chest where his heart beat slow and sure beneath your cheek.
You hadn't said much since the live ended. You didn't need to. Sometimes presence spoke louder than language ever could.
But eventually, he shifted, resting his cheek against your forehead. "You know what's been on my mind?"
You hummed softly. "Tell me."
He pulled back gently, enough to reach beside the bed and lift something off the nightstand—a small, neatly wrapped box tied with simple twine. The kind of thing that looked like it came from a hidden shop, wrapped by hand. "I got this for you," he said. "Back in Orlando."
You sat up slowly, cradling it in your hands. "In Orlando?"
He nodded, smiling softly at the memory. "Yeah. It was the day after I dropped you off at the airport. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I was driving around to clear my head and ended up near that street you and Hyunjin went to—the art gallery."
Your brows lifted.
"There was this tiny place next door," he continued. "Vintage gifts. Handmade things. I walked in without thinking—just drawn in by this weird gravity. I was still trying to figure out how I'd even say goodbye to you if we ever met again."
You ran your thumb over the twine slowly, heart caught in your throat.
"And then I saw this compass necklace," he said quietly. "Simple. Silver. But it stopped me cold."
You opened the box slowly. Inside, nestled in soft felt, was a delicate silver compass pendant. The points were subtle but perfectly crafted, a tiny black stone set in the center. On the back was a barely-there inscription, like a whisper etched in silver: "Fly back to me."
Your fingers trembled as you lifted it.
"I didn't even read the inscription at first," Chan said, voice distant, eyes focused on the memory. "I just picked it up and felt something in my chest. Like—this belongs to her. Like it was waiting for you."
He paused, swallowing. "When I turned it over and read that line... I think I stopped breathing for a second."
You looked at him—eyes glistening, lips parted. "Fly back to me," you echoed softly, thumb brushing over the words.
Chan nodded. "I didn't know how or when, but I knew you would."
The room was silent. Heavy with meaning. With history. With everything you hadn't yet said.
You didn't ask questions. You didn't explain the way your heart felt like it was unraveling in the best way possible.
You just melted into his arms. Your chest against his, face buried in the crook of his neck, your hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie like you never wanted to let go.
He held you tightly. Breathed you in. "I didn't know I could miss someone that much until you left," he whispered into your hair. "Didn't know how quiet a room could feel without you in it."
You pulled back slowly, meeting his eyes—soft and brown and filled with nothing but truth. "I don't want to just be a beautiful moment in time," you whispered.
"You're not," he said, cupping your face in both hands. "You're everything I want time with."
And then, his thumb brushed your cheek. His breath kissed your lips. And he said it. The three words that turned the ground beneath you to air.
"I love you."
You exhaled sharply—like your heart had finally unclenched—and smiled through the heat in your chest. "I love you too."
And when your lips met his this time, it wasn't discovery. It was declaration. It was the answer to every question your body had asked in the quiet.
It was slow, sure, reverent—his mouth moving over yours like he was learning you all over again. Like this was the moment he'd remember when the nights grew long and you were far away.
When it faded into stillness again, your limbs were tangled beneath the sheets. The compass now sat safe on the nightstand, its message facing up.
You kissed his chest once. Then twice. He kissed your forehead. And you fell asleep wrapped around each other—hearts full, fears quieted, no more masks between you.
Just love.
Just presence.
And the promise of return.