I still couldn't stop thinking about one thing since yesterday.
Babe. One word. Just one word. But somehow, Arga had managed to make me think about it all night.
My phone rang early in the morning.
Arga: Wake up.
I ignored it.
A few seconds later.
Arga: Don't pretend you're asleep.
I frowned.
Me: How do you know?
His reply came quickly.
Arga: Because I know you.
I smiled to myself.
Then another message came in.
Arga: Morning, babe.
I immediately closed the chat.
“Oh my God…”
I covered my face with my pillow.
Just yesterday, I'd said I wasn't ready. Now he was casually calling me that.
And the most annoying part— I liked it.
That afternoon, I sat in the library. Arga hadn't arrived yet. I was actually working on an assignment, but every few minutes, my eyes automatically drifted toward the door.
Until finally, someone sat down in the chair across from me.
“Looking for me?”
I immediately looked up.
Arga.
“Who said that?”
“You've been looking at the door this whole time.”
“I was watching people walk by.”
“Hmm.”
He pulled out his laptop.
“Keep going.”
I went back to my assignment.
A few minutes later, Arga held out his hand.
“What?”
“Your phone.”
“What for?”
“Let me borrow it.”
I handed over my phone suspiciously.
He opened something.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking.”
“Checking what?”
“What you have my name saved as.”
I let out a small laugh.
“Why?”
“I was curious.”
“Does it really matter?”
“It matters.”
I took my phone back.
Arga had caught a glimpse of the screen. He immediately frowned.
“Just Arga?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s so basic.”
“Then what do you want?”
He thought for a moment.
“Arga, My Beloved.”
I stared at him.
“Get real.”
“Handsome Arga?”
“Even more ridiculous.”
“Arga, My Future Husband?”
I immediately locked my phone.
“All right, go away.”
He laughed.
But a few seconds later, his voice grew quieter.
“Can I see it?”
“What?”
“My name.”
I handed over my phone again.
He opened his own contact.
Then he typed something.
I immediately snatched my phone back.
“Hey!”
I looked at the screen.
Arga ❤️
I stared at it in disbelief.
“You deleted it?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“So it would be clear.”
“Clear about what?”
“That I'm not just an ordinary friend.”
I couldn't answer.
Arga gave me a small smile.
“Don't delete it.”
I snorted.
“We'll see.”
Late afternoon arrived as we left the library. Arga walked beside me.
“Are you free tomorrow?”
“Why?”
“I want to take you somewhere.”
“Where?”
“It's a secret.”
I immediately grew suspicious.
“If you don't want to tell me, then forget it.”
“That's not it.”
“Then what?”
“I want to surprise you.”
I looked at him.
“Why all of a sudden?”
“I want to spend time with you without having to think about assignments.”
I smiled a little.
“Okay.”
Arga stopped walking. I stopped too.
“What?”
“You really want to?”
“Yeah.”
He smiled.
“Okay.”
I started walking again.
But suddenly, Arga called out.
“Hey.”
I turned around.
He pointed at my hand.
“Hold it.”
I looked at his outstretched hand.
My heart immediately started pounding.
“Here?”
“Yeah.”
“There are a lot of people.”
“So?”
I looked around. A few people really were walking by.
“It's embarrassing.”
Arga held out his hand again.
“I'm embarrassed too.”
“Liar.”
“All right then.”
He lowered his hand.
I watched him for a moment.
For some reason, seeing the disappointment on his face made me change my mind.
I finally reached for his hand.
Our fingers intertwined.
Arga turned to look at me. I immediately looked away.
“Don't look at me.”
He let out a small laugh.
“Why?”
“I'm embarrassed.”
“I thought we were just friends.”
I pinched his hand.
“Shut up.”
Instead, he squeezed my hand tighter.
And for the next few steps, we walked like that.
Neither of us said anything.
But I felt— maybe we'd already crossed the boundary we'd drawn for ourselves all this time.
The next day, Arga picked me up earlier than usual. He didn't tell me where we were going. I only found out when his motorcycle stopped in front of a place I'd never been to before.
I got off.
“What is this?”
Arga took off his helmet.
“Just get off.”
I looked around.
“Where are you taking me?”
He smiled.
“You'll find out.”
We walked inside.
And when I saw what was inside, I stopped in my tracks.
It turned out to be the place I'd told him about a few weeks ago. The place I'd wanted to visit for a long time.
I looked at Arga.
“You remembered?”
He nodded.
“I remembered.”
I didn't know why my chest suddenly felt tight.
Not because I was sad.
But because someone had actually been paying attention to the little things I'd almost forgotten I'd ever mentioned.
“Why?”
Arga looked at me.
“Why what?”
“Why do you remember things like this?”
He smiled.
“When it comes to you, I remember.”
I fell silent.
And that's when I realized one thing.
I was starting to get scared.
Not scared of Arga.
But scared of myself.
Because I was getting too comfortable. Too used to this. Too hopeful.
And I knew— if Arga ever left, I might truly lose something.