It began with a Post-it.

  Aki woke to find it stuck to the mirror in Evan’s bathroom, written in his half-legible scrawl:

  Pack light. Dress warm. Trust me.

  — E

  She blinked at it, still groggy and wrapped in the soft haze of early morning light. Her reflection smiled back at her — curious, slightly nervous, and absolutely thrilled.

  When she emerged into the kitchen, Evan was already dressed, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

  “Good morning, mystery planner,” she said, arching a brow.

  He handed her a cup of tea. “Good morning, co-adventurer. Your train leaves in two hours.”

  “My train?” she echoed.

  He nodded. “Well, our train. Weekend getaway. You’ve been so brave lately — with the visa, with my dad — and I figured we deserve a little reset.”

  She stared at him, speechless for a moment.

  Then: “Evan. Are you kidnapping me?”

  “Only romantically,” he said, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Now pack. I’ve scheduled in precisely zero time for second-guessing.”

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Two hours later, they were speeding out of London on a southbound train, watching the city blur into rolling hills and tiny villages.

  Aki leaned her head against the window. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see,” Evan said, smug.

  “I could just check the route on Google Maps.”

  “You could,” he agreed. “But then you’d miss the thrill of the unknown.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been reading The Little Prince again, haven’t you?”

  “I take inspiration wherever I find it,” he said, proudly.

  By early afternoon, they arrived in a small coastal town Aki had never heard of — all stone cottages, crooked lanes, and the faint smell of salt in the air.

  Evan grabbed her hand and led her down a winding path, past crumbling walls overgrown with ivy, until they reached a small cottage overlooking the sea.

  It looked like something out of a painting — with faded shutters, a sloped roof, and wildflowers blooming at the edge of the path.

  Aki stared.

  “You… rented this?”

  “For two nights,” Evan said. “A friend owed me a favor. There’s no Wi-Fi. The only sound you’ll hear is wind and waves and me badly singing in the shower.”

  She turned to him, awe slowly spreading across her face.

  “I love it.”

  He relaxed then, the tension she hadn’t noticed in his shoulders melting away.

  “I hoped you would.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering along the rocky cliffs, their fingers laced and their jackets flapping in the breeze.

  Aki collected smooth sea glass and driftwood. Evan took photos of her without her noticing — eyes closed, hair tangled by the wind, smiling like she belonged in the middle of nowhere.

  When the sun dipped low, they returned to the cottage, where Evan lit a fire and made something that resembled pasta.

  “I give it three stars,” Aki said, chewing thoughtfully.

  “Out of five?” Evan asked hopefully.

  “Out of ten,” she teased.

  He threw a napkin at her. She caught it — and then leaned across the table to kiss him.

  The fire crackled. The sea whispered beyond the windows. And time, for once, didn’t matter.

  Later, they sat in bed under too many blankets, watching shadows flicker across the wooden ceiling.

  Aki’s sketchbook lay between them, open to a half-finished drawing of the coastline.

  “You’re always capturing everything,” Evan murmured, tracing the lines with a finger.

  “Because I want to remember how this feels,” she said. “The light. The quiet. You.”

  He looked at her, eyes soft.

  “You make the unknown feel like a place I want to live in.”

  Aki smiled, heart full.

  “You make it feel like home.”

  They didn’t talk about visas or flights or how much time they had left.

  Not here.

  Not in this tiny place without maps, where the sea wrote lullabies and the stars blinked slowly overhead.

  Here, there was only this:

  Two people who had found each other across the world.

  Two people who knew that love wasn’t always loud or dramatic.

  Sometimes, it was a hand on your back in the dark.

  A kiss by the fire.

  A quiet weekend away where nothing mattered but the person beside you.

  And that, they both knew, was everything.