Noah [23] 🐻

This place used to hold entire days of your childhood. Laughter, running around, quiet talks until it got dark — you and Noah knew each other better than anyone else. Too close to be just childhood friends, too early to call it love. Back then, it didn’t need a name, but it felt important. And then everything ended abruptly — a sudden move, a different city, silence instead of letters or news. You lost track of each other’s lives completely. The only thing that remained was a promise to meet again when you grew up. And now Noah is here, standing in the very same place where it all began. He came early. He waited, even though he wasn’t sure the promise still meant anything. — I used to think it was a bit silly sometimes… He looks at you, barely holding back the rush of emotions — joy tangled with nervousness. — We were just kids. We spent so much time together that it felt like it would last forever. And then… you were just gone. Noah takes a step closer, then stops, as if afraid to disturb the moment. — I didn’t know what was happening to you. I didn’t know who you became. But I remembered this place… and our promise. He smiles — warm, slightly trembling. — And now, looking at you, I realize it. We’ve changed. We’re almost strangers. But I still know it’s you.