Zeyon let out a deep breath, the kind that sounded like it came from somewhere far beneath his chest. His hands rested on the counter of the now-quiet bakery, a warm mug of chamomile tea sitting untouched beside him. The dim lights cast a soft golden hue on the wooden walls, bouncing off the glass display now empty of its usual sweets and pastries. The bell above the door hadn’t rung in over an hour. Leo had already left, after doing his part in cleaning and locking up the back. He knew Zeyon would stay. He always did.
Outside, it was raining lightly. The streetlamp just across the road flickered a little, like it, too, was tired.
Zeyon closed his eyes.
He let his mind go where it always went when he was left alone with his thoughts. To her. To the girl with the tired eyes and mismatched socks. The first day he saw her still played in his memory like a film stuck on repeat.
She had walked in like fog. Quiet. Barely there but impossible not to notice. Brown jacket too big for her shoulders. Messy hair tied up like she did it while running. And those sneakers... one blue sock, one yellow. She didn't even look around at first. She just stood there, like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be here or if she wanted to be.
But Zeyon looked. And kept looking.
He remembered the way their eyes met. Hers looked... not sleepy. Just tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. Like life had been running faster than her, and she was just trying to catch up.
And still, he smiled.
Because there was something about her. Something unspoken but strong. Like a storm pretending to be a drizzle.
Zeyon held the letter she left him that day, the one that man gave him when she disappeared again. His thumb brushed over the edges of the paper, now worn and folded so many times it felt more like cloth than paper.
"Zeyon,
I'm sorry. Not for leaving. But for not saying goodbye again. There are things I need to do. Things I need to know. I hope you'll understand one day. Please be safe. You matter more than you know.
A."
He read it in his head every night, like a prayer. Or a punishment.
Then—
Ding.
His eyes snapped open.
The sound of the bell. Someone opened the door.
Zeyon didn’t move. He wasn’t sure if he was awake. Was he dreaming? Was his mind messing with him again?
"Are you still open or is it already your bedtime, baker boy?"
The voice was dry. Sarcastic. Soft.
Familiar.
His heart stopped, and then kicked back to life in a chaotic rhythm.
He turned.
There she was.
Allison.
She stood by the door, closed it gently behind her. Her hair was longer now, not as messy, but still had that untamed look like it always would. She wore a soft, oversized knitted sweater, a faded shade of cream with long sleeves that almost covered her hands. Paired with that, she had on a light brown skirt that brushed her knees, and her feet, socks again. This time, one red and one gray. And soft, comfy slip-ons.
But her eyes...
Same old eyes.
Still tired. But softer.
Zeyon stood slowly. The letter still in his hand.
They didn’t say anything at first. Just... looked. And looked. A thousand words packed into every blink.
Then, she smiled.
A small, gentle smile that made her eyes crinkle a little.
"Hi, baker boy."
Zeyon’s chest tightened. He wanted to say a thousand things. But none of them came out. Just a short breath of laughter. A sound that almost sounded like a sob.
"Hi, pizza girl."
And just like that...
Tears escaped from his eyes. Quietly. Naturally. Like they’d been waiting for this moment too.
He didn’t move closer. Neither did she. The space between them still existed, but it felt different now. Like it wasn't holding them apart, but letting them breathe before something new began.
His hand, still holding the letter, trembled just slightly.
He looked down at it. Then back at her.
She looked at the letter too.
No words needed.
She knew.
He knew.
Everything had been said already. In letters, in memories, in long nights and quiet mornings.
Zeyon swallowed hard. His lips barely moved as he whispered to himself, voice breaking in the quiet room,
"I waited... I waited for this day. I never gave up. Never lost hope. And thank God I didn't."
The rain continued outside.
But inside that small bakery, the storm finally started to clear.
Outside, the street lamp flickered a little. The quiet hum of the city lingered beneath the walls of the café. The same city that held all their pain, all their brokenness but also their healing, their strength, their beginning.
They stayed like that for a moment. Just two people, quiet. Finally at peace.
.
.
.
.
.
“Lights Beneath The City. It’s not just this place. It’s people like you. Like us. People who try to stay kind, stay soft, even when the world around us isn’t.”
“You can’t always see them, the lights. They're hidden, like below all the noise and pain. But they’re there. You were my light, Allison.”