Almost, Always

This will contain her POV only.

(Ynn POV)

We met through an app. One of those random chat-for-fun platforms where conversations vanish as quickly as they start. I didn't expect much—honestly, I was just looking for a distraction.

That night, I remember lying in bed, one leg sticking out of my blanket like some sort of Wi-Fi antenna, scrolling aimlessly while chewing on the inside of my cheek. I had been feeling kind of emotionally distant from everything—my friends, school, even myself. I didn't want anything deep. I didn't want to care.

I just wanted to feel something new.

And then there it was.

A message notification blinked on my screen:

"Hi, how are you?"

It was simple. No "heyyy," no weird emojis, no red flags in his profile photo. Just a line—clean, polite, a little plain maybe—but for some reason, I didn't skip it.

I replied:

"hii."

Not capital-H "Hi." Just a lowercase, double-i kind. Casual, low effort, but not dismissive.

He replied fast.

"I just downloaded this app. It seemed interesting. I'm currently on vacation and kinda bored. This was a spontaneous decision... made by a spontaneous person."

I let out a soft laugh through my nose. I liked how he phrased that.

"Hahaha, that's why I downloaded it too!"

"Honestly just here to rant about random stuff"

"But almost everyone here is just... here to date. TT"

"Like, this isn't even a dating app?!"

"Haha, I know right?" he said. "I guess everyone is just bored."

There was something oddly nice about that—him admitting he was bored, that he came here on a whim. No weird pickup lines, no trying-too-hard energy. Just two people accidentally landing on the same screen.

We didn't click instantly. I've talked to a lot of people on that app before—some were polite, most weren't. I got used to ghosting, or worse, conversations that went from 0 to "what are you wearing" in three seconds flat.

But he was different.

Steady. Gentle.

The kind of person who didn't rush anything.

Didn't pry.

Didn't try to make the conversation all about him.

Just... flowed.

We started talking about timezones first—he was from China, I was in the Philippines. He told me it was slightly colder there right now, that he had been out earlier and sent me a photo of the busy road, with few people walking on the sidewalk. The sky looked pale, almost grayish-blue. It looked cold, but kind of peaceful.

I asked, "Is it chilling? Or really cold?"

"Cold, but still bearable," he said.

He added, "I went to get some groceries."

I imagined him walking alone down that road, hoodie on maybe, hands tucked in his pockets, breathing in the sharp, dry air.

And I don't know why—but I liked picturing that.

The more we chatted, the more I realized... I wasn't holding back.

Not completely. Not like I usually did.

He asked questions and I did too. We asked questions Like:

"What do you usually do when you feel overwhelmed?"

"What's something you wish more people understood about you?"

"Do you think two people can really know each other through a screen?"

We weren't even an hour into knowing each other and already, he was giving space for real answers. No pressure. Just soft little openings, as if to say: "Only if you want to."

I found myself opening tabs while we talked—Googling some Chinese words he mentioned, checking out the foods he said he liked, laughing quietly when he confessed that his handwriting was "so bad it should be a crime."

I told him mine looked like a chickens scribble. We both laughed.

Somewhere between talking about random hobbies and the weird comfort of late-night grocery trips, he said something that stayed with me.

"You seem very soft-spoken. But I feel like there's a storm somewhere under that calm."

I blinked.

I didn't know what to say.

No one had ever said that to me before. Not even people who had known me for years. But he saw it in minutes. Through text.

"That's... kinda accurate," I replied.

And then:

"Are you always this good at reading people?"

"Only when I'm paying attention," he said.

"And I'm paying attention now."

Days passed. Then a week. Then two.

And suddenly, this "random" stranger wasn't so random anymore.

We added each other on another platform. The kind where messages don't disappear. I hesitated at first—it felt like crossing a line. But something in me wanted to keep him. Even just as a name on my screen. Even just as this presence who made me feel... known.

He asked if I wanted a Chinese name.

I think we were talking about meanings and translations that day—how names hold weight, how syllables can shape memories.

"Sure," I said, playfully.

"Will you give me one?"

He replied with a calm, almost serious tone.

"我中文名字叫赵家鑫."

(My Chinese name is———.)

Then he asked:

"你想要一个什么样的姓呢?"

(What kind of surname would you like?)

I paused.

"I'm not really sure," I typed.

"Maybe something you think fits me?"

He went quiet for a bit. Then he said:

"那咱俩一个姓吧."

(Then let's have the same surname.)

I reread it.

Then again.

He followed up with:

"在我们这里家人才一个姓的."

(Where I'm from, family shares the same surname.)

I took a moment but then responded with:

Are you sure it's ok? I'll trust you then

He responded with:

It's Ok-ok

Most surnames are pretty common here

I don't know why it hit so hard.

Maybe because he said it so casually.

Maybe because it wasn't romantic. Just honest. Cultural. Deep-rooted.

But it felt intimate in a way I hadn't expected.

Like suddenly, this bond we were building—this thing I couldn't name—had roots.

He gave me a name:

(blank) ——I'd like to keep the name to myself hahaha

I asked "what does it mean? "

He took a moment to respond, as if thinking calmly first and finding the meaning of each word. He replied

"溪流,梦想和命运."

(Stream, dreams, and destiny.)

I didn't know how to respond.

It sounded poetic. Too poetic for someone like me. But I said:

"That's... beautiful. Thank you."

And he replied:

"我想我不会再忘记你了这样."

(I don't think I'll ever forget you now, like this.)

And I replied

"I won't forget you too"

I didn't sleep much that night.

Not because of what he said.

But because of what it meant.

It was no longer just boredom.

Or a random app.

Or a passing conversation.

Something had shifted.

Something quiet. But deep.Perhaps it was Friendship.

Like the beginning of something I didn't want to name too soon.

Well... at-least not yet