The quiet warmth between them lingered for a long time after their conversation about college, memories, and the years they spent living together. The restaurant remained peaceful, almost unreal in its silence, while the city lights shimmered endlessly outside the massive glass windows.
Yuna rested comfortably beside Ethan now, her shoulder pressed lightly against his arm while one of his hands rested lazily near hers on the table.
Everything felt softer tonight.
Closer.
But her mind still lingered on one thing.
Twenty years.
Not nine.
Not college.
Not living together.
Something earlier.
Something deeper.
Yuna slowly lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him again carefully.
"You still didn't explain everything."
Ethan glanced at her calmly. "I explained enough."
"No," she shook her head immediately. "You said you knew me from twenty years ago."
"I did."
"But how?" Yuna frowned softly. "You said we met at events before, but that doesn't explain why you remember me so clearly."
Ethan stayed silent for a moment.
And this time—
Something in his expression changed.
The softness faded slightly, replaced by something older.
Heavier.
Yuna noticed immediately.
Her voice became quieter. "Ethan?"
He exhaled slowly before leaning back against the chair.
Then after several seconds of silence, he finally spoke.
"I was five."
Yuna blinked softly.
Ethan's eyes lowered toward the candlelight flickering across the table.
"And I ran away from home."
Her brows furrowed instantly. "What?"
The atmosphere shifted completely now.
Ethan rarely talked about childhood.
Almost never.
Yuna stayed completely still while listening carefully.
"When I was little," Ethan said quietly, "my father had this dog."
His voice sounded strangely distant now, like he was watching the memory happen somewhere far away.
"It wasn't technically mine," he continued. "But I treated it like it was."
Yuna listened silently.
Ethan's fingers moved slightly against the table unconsciously. "One day the dog got inside my father's office."
His jaw tightened faintly.
"It ruined some important papers. Knocked things over."
Yuna suddenly felt uneasy.
Because she already knew where this story was going.
Ethan's gaze darkened slightly.
"And my father killed it."
The words fell heavily between them.
Yuna's breath caught softly.
"He…" she whispered, horrified, "…he killed the dog?"
Ethan nodded once.
"In front of me."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Yuna stared at him, her chest tightening painfully.
Because suddenly she understood something.
That coldness inside Ethan.
That fear.
That distance he carried since childhood.
A five-year-old boy watched something cruel and learned exactly what kind of man his father truly was.
Ethan's voice remained calm somehow, but Yuna could hear the buried emotion beneath it.
"I remember the sound more than anything," he admitted quietly. "After that… I couldn't stay there."
Yuna's eyes softened painfully.
"So I ran away."
The image formed clearly inside her mind now—
A frightened little boy leaving a giant house alone.
Too young.
Too scared.
Too hurt to stay.
Ethan looked out toward the city lights while continuing quietly.
"I didn't know where to go. I just kept walking."
Yuna's chest hurt hearing it.
"At some point I ended up near a park."
He paused slightly.
"And near your house."
Yuna blinked.
"My house?"
Ethan nodded faintly.
"I didn't know it was your house back then."
Her heart started beating strangely now.
Ethan continued softly, "My father's guards were searching for me."
Yuna imagined tiny Ethan running through unfamiliar streets while bodyguards searched everywhere for him.
"Heavy rain started," Ethan said quietly. "I tried hiding."
His eyes lowered briefly.
"And then I fell."
Yuna unconsciously leaned closer now, listening carefully.
"I scraped my knee badly against the pavement," he murmured. "It was bleeding."
The image hurt her heart immediately.
Five-year-old Ethan.
Alone.
Bleeding.
Terrified.
Ethan gave a faint humorless smile. "I remember thinking my father would kill me too after I got caught."
Yuna's chest tightened painfully hearing that sentence.
A child should never think like that.
Never.
Then Ethan looked at her again slowly.
"And that's when I met you."
Yuna froze slightly.
The restaurant suddenly felt incredibly quiet.
"You were sitting near the park with your parents," he continued. "You saw me fall."
Yuna stared at him speechlessly now.
Ethan's gaze softened faintly, almost imperceptibly.
"You came toward me immediately."
Fragments of blurry childhood memories suddenly flickered inside Yuna's mind.
A rainy day.
A boy sitting near a tree.
Blood on his knee.
Tiny hands trying to help.
Her breathing slowed.
"Oh my god…"
Ethan watched realization slowly appear in her expression.
"You were wearing a yellow dress," he murmured quietly. "And you kept talking nonstop."
Yuna laughed softly through her shock. "That sounds accurate."
"You asked if I got bullied."
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."
"That also sounds accurate."
For the first time Ethan's expression softened properly again.
"You looked angry because I wouldn't answer," he said quietly.
Yuna could almost picture it now.
Little Ethan—silent and defensive.
Little Yuna—overly friendly and stubborn.
Then Ethan continued softly—
"You took out a small napkin from your pocket."
Yuna's eyes widened slightly.
"You wrapped it around my knee because you thought it would fix the bleeding."
Her heart tightened instantly.
Ethan looked down at the table quietly.
"You were smiling the entire time."
Something emotional moved deeply inside Yuna hearing that.
Because she didn't remember fully—
But Ethan did.
Every detail.
Every second.
"You kept telling me not to cry," he murmured. "Even though I wasn't crying."
A faint laugh escaped her.
"That sounds like something I'd do."
"You were annoying."
"But cute?"
Ethan looked at her flatly.
Yuna grinned softly.
Then his expression became quieter again.
"Your mother eventually called you back."
Yuna's smile slowly faded.
"And you left with your parents."
The warmth in his voice disappeared after that.
"Then the guards found me."
Yuna's chest tightened again instantly.
Ethan's eyes darkened slightly at the memory.
"They grabbed me and dragged me back home."
Silence filled the restaurant afterward.
Yuna stared at him quietly, emotions building painfully inside her chest.
Because suddenly everything felt different.
This wasn't just coincidence anymore.
Not college.
Not fate suddenly throwing them together as adults.
They crossed paths when they were children.
And somehow—
Yuna was probably the only kind thing Ethan remembered from that terrifying day.
Her eyes slowly started stinging.
Ethan noticed immediately. "Why are you crying?"
"I'm not."
"You are."
Yuna looked down quickly, wiping her eyes softly. "You were five…"
Ethan stayed silent.
"You were just a child."
"So were you."
"But I went home safely," she whispered painfully. "And you got dragged back there."
Something unreadable flickered in Ethan's eyes hearing the sadness in her voice.
Yuna slowly reached for his hand across the table.
This time Ethan let her hold it immediately.
"You remembered me all this time?" she asked softly.
"Yes."
"Even after years?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Ethan looked at her quietly for a long moment before answering.
"Because you were the first person who helped me without wanting anything."
The words shattered something softly inside her chest.
Yuna stared at him speechlessly.
At five years old—
That tiny moment stayed with him for twenty years.
Her voice became barely above a whisper.
"…Ethan."
He looked away slightly afterward, almost uncomfortable with how much he had revealed tonight.
But Yuna suddenly moved closer beside him again and wrapped both arms around him tightly without hesitation.
Ethan froze faintly.
Yuna held him carefully, her cheek resting against his shoulder.
"You were alone all this time," she whispered softly.
Ethan's arms slowly moved around her waist automatically.
"No," he murmured quietly after a moment.
Yuna looked up slightly.
"Not after I found you again."
Yuna's arms tightened around him after hearing those words.
"Not after I found you again."
The sentence echoed quietly inside her chest, warmer and sadder than anything Ethan had said all night.
For a long moment neither of them moved.
The restaurant remained silent around them, the candlelight flickering softly while distant city lights reflected across the glass windows. Somewhere far away, soft piano music continued playing, but Yuna barely heard it anymore.
All she could think about was five-year-old Ethan.
A lonely child running through the rain after watching something cruel no child should ever see.
And somehow—
Their story started there.
Not in college.
Not in arguments.
Not when they moved in together.
But in a park on a rainy evening.
Yuna slowly leaned back just enough to look at him properly again. Her eyes were still slightly wet.
"You remembered my yellow dress?" she whispered softly.
Ethan looked calm again now, but his gaze stayed gentler than usual. "You hated it."
Yuna blinked. "What?"
"You kept complaining that it was itchy."
A surprised laugh escaped her immediately through the emotion in her chest. "Oh my god."
"You talked about it for ten straight minutes."
"That sounds exactly like me."
"It was exhausting."
Yuna smiled softly while wiping the corner of her eyes. "And you still remember all that?"
Ethan looked at her quietly.
"You were loud enough to become unforgettable."
She laughed again, softer this time.
But then her expression slowly changed again.
More emotional.
"Ethan…" she whispered, "after that day… were you okay?"
The question lingered heavily between them.
Ethan leaned back slightly against the chair before answering.
"I stopped expecting kindness after that."
Yuna's heart hurt instantly hearing the honesty in his voice.
"But then years later," he continued quietly, "I saw you again at one of those business events."
Yuna listened carefully.
"You were older by then. Maybe twelve." A faint softness entered his eyes again. "Still talking too much."
"That's not a flaw."
"It definitely is."
Yuna smiled faintly.
Ethan continued quietly, "You didn't remember me at all."
Her chest tightened slightly hearing that.
"But you still smiled at everyone the same way," he murmured. "Even after years."
Yuna looked down silently.
"You know what I thought back then?" Ethan suddenly asked.
She looked back at him softly. "What?"
His gaze lingered on her face.
"I thought someone like you shouldn't exist around people like me."
The words made her breathing slow.
"Why?"
"Because people like me ruin things."
Yuna immediately shook her head. "No."
Ethan gave a faint humorless smile. "You didn't know me back then."
"And you didn't know yourself properly either," she whispered softly.
That made him pause.
Yuna slowly reached up and touched the side of his face gently.
"You think you only remember violence and darkness from your childhood," she murmured, "but you also remembered kindness for twenty years."
Ethan looked at her silently.
"You remembered one small girl helping you in the rain," she whispered. "That means your heart was never as cold as you pretend it is."
Something shifted quietly in Ethan's expression after hearing that.
Yuna smiled faintly through lingering tears before leaning closer again and resting her forehead softly against his.
"And honestly," she whispered with a tiny laugh, "little you sounds adorable."
Ethan looked offended immediately. "I was bleeding."
"And dramatic."
"I was being hunted."
"Still adorable."
Ethan shook his head faintly while she laughed softly again.
Then after a few quiet seconds, Ethan suddenly murmured near her ear—
"You still carry napkins everywhere."
Yuna blinked in surprise.
"What?"
"You did it today too."
Her eyes widened slightly.
Slowly, she reached into her purse and pulled out a folded napkin silently.
Ethan looked at it calmly.
Then at her.
And suddenly both of them smiled at the same time.