A New Beginning

The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier in the evening. The streetlights cast a soft glow over the pavement as Sam and Mahiru walked side by side, their fingers loosely intertwined. It had been only a few hours since Sam had finally confessed his feelings, and yet, everything between them already felt different—lighter, warmer, as if a weight had been lifted off both their shoulders.

But Mahiru, being Mahiru, wasn't going to let him off so easily.

"So…" she started, glancing up at him with a mischievous smirk. "Are you going to cry again if I hold your hand a little tighter?"

Sam groaned, his cheeks immediately heating up. "Oh, come on," he muttered, looking away. "You're really not going to let that go, are you?"

Mahiru laughed, swinging their hands slightly as they walked. "Nope. It was adorable," she teased. "Big, tough Sam, crying like a lost puppy in the middle of the street. I wish I had taken a picture."

Sam let out a dramatic sigh. "I was overwhelmed, okay? It's not every day the girl you like actually likes you back."

Mahiru tilted her head, pretending to think. "I mean, I would've told you sooner if you weren't so slow."

He stopped walking and turned to her, feigning offense. "Slow? Excuse me, I had a plan! I was waiting for the right moment."

Mahiru raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Oh, really? And your grand plan was to awkwardly talk about a 'friend' and then suddenly cry on my shoulder?"

Sam groaned again, running a hand down his face. "Okay, okay, I get it. You're never letting this go."

She giggled, squeezing his hand. "Never."

Sam shook his head, but he couldn't help but smile. As embarrassing as it was, he wouldn't change a single thing about that moment. The truth was, Mahiru had seen him at his most vulnerable, and instead of pushing him away, she had held him closer. That meant more to him than he could ever put into words.

As they continued walking, Mahiru glanced up at him again, her teasing expression softening. "Hey," she said gently, "for the record, I thought it was sweet. I like that you're not afraid to show how you feel."

Sam looked down at her, his heart swelling. "Only because you make it easy," he admitted.

She smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder for a moment. "Good. Because I plan to make you feel this way for a long, long time."

Sam squeezed her hand, a quiet promise passing between them.

The days that followed felt like a dream.

There was no more hesitation, no more wondering what-if. They were together now, and everything between them felt effortless. Their conversations, their laughter, even their comfortable silences—it all carried a new kind of warmth, a certainty that neither of them had to question anymore.

Sam found himself drawn to her in ways he hadn't even realized before. The way she absentmindedly twirled her hair when she was deep in thought, the way she tapped her fingers on the table when she was excited about something, the way she always stole the last bite of his dessert and grinned like she had won a battle.

And Mahiru, in turn, had found new ways to tease him—bringing up his teary confession at the most random moments just to see him get flustered, dramatically reenacting his words, even pretending to wipe away imaginary tears when he complimented her.

But beneath all the playful teasing, there was something deeper—something that made Sam feel like he had finally found where he belonged.

One evening, as they sat in their usual café, Mahiru was flipping through a book while Sam absentmindedly stirred his coffee. He watched her for a moment, the soft glow of the café lights reflecting in her eyes.

"You know," he mused, "I used to think love had to be complicated. Like some kind of puzzle I had to figure out."

Mahiru glanced up, a small smile playing on her lips. "And now?"

Sam reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Now I think it's just about finding the right person. Someone who makes it all feel simple."

Mahiru stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she closed her book and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Wow," she said, smirking. "That was really smooth. Are you sure you're the same guy who awkwardly confessed and cried on my shoulder?"

Sam groaned. "And there it is again."

Mahiru giggled, reaching across the table to take his hand. "Relax, Sam. I like you just the way you are—even if you are a crybaby sometimes."

Sam sighed, but he couldn't help but smile. Because, at the end of the day, Mahiru was right.

Everything felt right.

Everything felt beautiful.

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