Duang used to think love was something simple.

It was Qin laughing with his eyes closed while eating ice cream too fast. It was Qin pulling Duang's sleeve whenever they crossed a busy road. It was late-night walks after concerts, fingers brushing together because Qin always hated holding hands in public but secretly wanted to.

Everyone loved them together.

They were the couple people talked about like they belonged in a movie. Qin was soft spoken, calm, always smiling quietly beside Duang's loud energy. Duang talked too much, laughed too hard, loved too openly. Somehow, they fit perfectly.

...

...

Sometimes Qin would sit beside him on the floor at 2 a.m., fixing Duang's messy hair while whispering,

"You never sleep properly."

And Duang would answer every single time,

"Because I like spending time with you more."

Qin would roll his eyes, but his ears always turned red.

They had everything.

...

...

Untill Qin died

No warning. No goodbye. Just one phone call that shattered Duang's entire world in less than a minute.

After the funeral, people stopped visiting slowly. The messages became shorter. The pity in everyone's eyes became unbearable.

Duang stopped replying to everyone.

He stopped eating properly. Stopped sleeping. Sometimes he would wake up at four in the morning because he swore he heard Qin humming in the kitchen again.

But the apartment was always empty.

Five months passed like that.

Five long months.

Then one rainy evening, Duang saw him.

The boy stood near the bus stop under a broken streetlight, wearing a black hoodie and white shoes stained by rainwater. His hair was slightly wet, sticking to his forehead exactly the way Qin's used to.

Duang froze.

The world around him disappeared completely.

The buses, the rain, the people walking past him - everything became quiet.

Because that was Qin.

Or at least... it looked exactly like Qin.

The boy looked up slowly, eyes tired and soft.

Duang felt his chest hurt so badly he almost couldn't breathe.

"Qin?" he whispered.

The boy didn't answer.

But he didn't walk away either.

Duang laughed suddenly, shaky and broken.

"God... you really scared me."

Still no answer.

But when the bus arrived, the boy stepped away from it instead of getting on.

And somehow, Duang took that as permission.

So he walked beside him.

...

...

The rain became softer as they entered the quieter streets near the park. Duang kept talking the entire time because silence scared him now.

"You disappeared for so long,"

he said with a weak smile.

"You know everyone misses you, right?"

The boy looked at him quietly.

Duang swallowed hard.

"I miss you the most."

They walked slowly beside the river. Streetlights reflected on the water, trembling like broken stars.

Duang talked about everything.

About how their favorite café closed last month.

About how he still bought Qin's favorite strawberry milk without thinking.

About how he still slept on only one side of the bed because the other side belonged to Qin.

The boy listened silently.

Sometimes he glanced at Duang the same way Qin used to - soft and patient, like he understood every word even when Duang made no sense.

At one point, Duang almost started crying because the boy pushed his wet hair away from his forehead exactly like Qin always did.

Exactly.

His hands even moved the same way.

"You remember,"

Duang whispered.

The boy only smiled faintly.

They stopped at a small convenience store later that night. Duang bought two warm drinks automatically.

When he handed one over, their fingers brushed.

Cold.

So cold.

Duang ignored the strange feeling.

Instead, he kept talking.

About the first time they met.

About the matching rings they bought from a cheap shop.

About how Qin once cried during a sad movie but denied it for three straight hours.

The boy's shoulders shook slightly like he was silently laughing.

Duang smiled for the first time in months.

It felt normal.

Walking beside him felt normal.

Like death had simply been a nightmare.

Hours passed without Duang noticing.

By midnight, they were sitting together on a bench in the empty park. The city lights glowed far away while the wind moved quietly through the trees.

Duang took out his phone suddenly.

"We should take a picture,"

he said.

"Everyone's gonna freak out when they see you."

The boy looked at him silently again.

Duang moved closer anyway, smiling weakly at the camera.

Click.

He stared at the photo for a second, tears immediately filling his eyes.

It looked perfect.

He quickly sent it to his friends.

I found him.

I'm with Qin.

Then he leaned his head against the boy's shoulder.

For the first time in five months, Duang felt peaceful enough to close his eyes.

But far away, his friends stared at the picture in horror.

Because in the photo, there was only Duang sitting alone on the bench.

Smiling beside empty space.

No second person.

No Qin.

Nothing at all.

One of them immediately called Duang over and over again, hands shaking violently.

But before the calls could reach him, Duang looked beside himself one last time.

The bench was empty now.

Only cold rain remained beside him.

Yet Duang still smiled through his tears.

Because for one small night, Qin came back to him again.

Even if it was only inside his broken memory.