They met on an ordinary afternoon in Manila—the kind people usually forget.
The sky was heavy with heat, the streets loud with traffic, and the small café near the university was half-empty, hiding from the chaos outside. Ethan liked places like this. Quiet corners. Slow hours. Places where time didn't rush him.
He was seated alone by the window, coffee growing cold, laptop open more for comfort than work. He had been there for almost an hour when the bell above the door rang.
That was when Luna walked in.
She didn't look like someone trying to be noticed. No dramatic entrance. No forced confidence. She looked tired, slightly annoyed at the weather, hair loosely tied as if she had changed her mind halfway through fixing it. Her dress was simple. Her sneakers were damp from the street.
She scanned the café, frowned, then walked straight toward him.
"Excuse me," she said softly. "Is this seat taken?"
Ethan blinked, startled. "No—uh, no. It's free."
She smiled as she sat down. Not wide. Not flirtatious. Just a small, genuine smile that felt oddly warm.
For a while, they didn't talk.
Rain began to fall outside, tapping against the glass. Luna ordered coffee. Ethan pretended to work. Every few minutes, he found himself glancing at her—at the way she held her cup with both hands, at how her brows knitted when the coffee was too hot.
She caught him staring.
"This is awkward," she said suddenly, laughing. "We're sharing a table but acting like strangers."
Ethan laughed too, embarrassed. "Yeah. Sorry. I'm Ethan."
"Luna."
Her name fit her perfectly, he thought—soft, but distant. Bright, but untouchable.
They talked about small things. Classes. Work. How Manila felt too crowded sometimes. Luna talked about loving loud music and late nights. Ethan admitted he preferred quiet mornings and staying in.
"You're boring," she teased.
"Probably," he said with a grin. "You still chose my table, though."
That made her laugh again—louder this time.
When the rain stopped, Luna stood up. "I should go."
"Oh," Ethan said, surprised at how quickly he felt disappointed.
She hesitated, then took his phone. "Let me save my number. Text me. Don't overthink it."
She left before he could say anything else.
Ethan stared at his screen long after she was gone, rereading her name like it might disappear if he didn't.
They started meeting after that. Simple dates. Street food at midnight. Long walks without direction. Conversations that slipped easily from dreams to fears. Luna liked how Ethan listened. Ethan liked how Luna filled silence without trying.
Love didn't arrive loudly.
It came quietly—through shared meals, late-night talks, and the way Luna slowly began calling his place home.
A year later, they would be living together.
A year later, she would change.
But on the day they met, Luna looked at Ethan like the world hadn't disappointed her yet.
And Ethan fell in love the moment she chose his table—
not knowing that this ordinary day would become the beginning of a love that would cost him everything.