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

There were things Nayla and Raka didn't say.

Not because they didn't feel them.

But because some truths were too fragile to speak. Like holding a bird too tightly you didn't want to crush what made it beautiful.

It started with Raka's missed call.

By the time he texted, it was late.

"Sorry. Long day. Talk tomorrow?"

She wasn't angry, not in the way people usually are. But a whisper of doubt settled in the pit of her stomach.

She hated that it still triggered something old inside her. Something unhealed.

The next day, he showed up at her door, takeaway in hand and worry written across his face.

"I didn't want to bring a bad mood into your space," he admitted. "I was tired. Burnt out. Needed to reset."

"I get that," she said quietly. "But you don't have to disappear to protect me."

He sat beside her, not touching, just… near.

"I used to believe that love meant keeping people away from your mess," he said. "But with you, I'm trying to learn that maybe love means letting someone sit in the mess with you."

She stared at the floor. "I've been trying to learn that, too."

Because sometimes what's broken isn't the moment, it's the echo of moments that came before.

The voice in her head that whispered, What if you're too much? What if you're not enough? What if he changes his mind?

He carried expectations like bricks in a backpack. How sometimes he didn't even notice the ache until he dropped it all at once.

Hands that held tightly, even in silence.

Later that night, as they lay side by side, Nayla whispered, "Sometimes I think we're two people trying to build a language no one ever taught us."

"Then let's keep building. One sentence at a time."

She reached for his hand under the blanket. Fingers interlaced. No grand gestures. No dramatic forgiveness arcs.

Sometimes, the things they didn't say out loud were still heard.

Chapter 56 – The Things They Don’t Say Out Loud