Hendry_budisaputra

She was cold in chat. But when they met, her silence spoke louder than words.

Nayla is the kind of girl who leaves your message unread, not because she doesn’t care, but because she doesn’t know how to care in a way that fits inside a blue bubble.

Raka, a warm and extroverted guy, falls for Nayla’s quiet presence. But as their connection grows, so does his confusion. How do you hold on to someone who disappears every time the screen lights up?

This is not a story of grand declarations. It’s about pauses, glances, and the kind of love that lingers in silence.

Cold on Screen, Warm in Real Life is a slow-burn urban romance about learning to speak each other’s language even when one is made of noise and the other of quiet.

Cold on Screen, Warm in Real Life

It was Friday night. They were sitting at a coffee shop after work a habit now. Not a date. Not officially. But the barista already knew their order by heart.

Nayla stirred her latte slowly, watching the foam dissolve in lazy circles. Raka sat across from her, elbows on the table, chin resting on his palm, like he was studying a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

"You know," he said, eyes not leaving her, "sometimes I think we're from two different planets."

She looked up. "Because I'm quiet?"

"Because you're thoughtful. Deliberate. I speak before I think. You think before you speak."

A faint smile touched her lips. "And yet, we still meet in the middle."

There was a pause. A beat of silence filled only by the low hum of conversation and clinking cups.

Raka cleared his throat. "Can I ask something?"

She nodded, still watching the foam swirl.

"Do you ever… want to be more than just friends?"

Her spoon paused mid-stir. The swirl stilled.

She didn't look up. "I… I don't know what I am to you."

He leaned in slightly. His voice was soft. Honest. "You're someone I look for in a room. Even when I don't mean to."

She stared at her cup, her heart thudding a little too loudly, like it might spill out of her chest. She didn't respond with words. But the way her breath caught, the way her fingers tightened around the mug, said enough.

"You don't have to answer now," he said. "Or ever. I just wanted you to know."

She nodded barely. Then lifted her cup to hide the smallest, most dangerous smile.

The bus was more crowded than usual.

Nayla stepped inside, scanning for a spot. Every seat was taken except one.

He saw her before she saw him, already sliding his bag off the seat with a dramatic flourish.

"Your throne, milady," he said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes but didn't resist. "So extra."

"And yet you still sit beside me. Curious."

Their arms brushed again and again with each bump in the road. Neither moved.

"You always take this bus?" she asked after a while.

That word hung in the air between them. Not heavy. Not light. Just... possible.

She turned to the window, pretending to watch the passing streets. But she felt his gaze on her, quiet, patient.

"I like sitting beside you," he said, almost too softly.

"You make the world feel less loud."

She blinked, startled by how simple it was. And how much it meant.

For someone so loud himself, he sure loved the quiet she brought.

Her smile this time wasn't shy or hidden. It was full. Real. And when her head tilted just slightly toward his shoulder, just enough to feel like choosing him, he didn't flinch.

And in the hush of that crowded bus, between noise and motion and neon lights streaking the windows, they sat together like two people slowly growing into something unspoken.

But something more than just a habit.

Chapter 20 – Unspoken Confessions