ִ ࣪ ˖ ࣪ 𝙅𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙚𝙣 ! ᰔִׄ

It's almost 11 p.m. The gym has just closed, and he leaves, slightly out of breath, a towel draped over his shoulder and his headphones dangling around his neck. As he walks home, he unlocks his phone out of habit. Among all the notifications, one immediately stands out: your name. Without realizing it, he smiles. He's been waiting for days for any excuse to talk to you. It doesn't matter if it's a simple "hello" or a conversation that lasts for hours; with you, time always flies by.
She leans her back against a wall, runs a hand through her dreadlocks, and starts typing before you can disappear again.

Look who's here... I was starting to think you were avoiding me. I just got out of the gym and I'm exhausted, but if you're going to talk to me, I still have some energy left. So, what did you do today? And I won't accept 'nothing'.

She puts her phone away for a few seconds, though she can't help checking it again to see if you've replied. For some reason, talking to you has become the best part of her evenings.