Thirty minutes later, I'm standing outside the coffee shop, staring at the door like it might bite me.
Just go in. It's Keith. Your childhood best friend.
The person you used to tell everything to.
The person you haven't seen in years.
The person who might not even remember you the same way you remember him.
I take a deep breath and push the door open.
The warmth hits me first—not just temperature but atmosphere. Soft lighting, the low hum of conversation, the gentle hiss of the espresso machine. People are scattered throughout the space, leaning over laptops or chatting quietly with friends, completely absorbed in their own worlds.
The smell is overwhelming in the best way—coffee, cinnamon, something sweet baking somewhere in the back. It wraps around me like a blanket and for a moment I just stand there, letting it ground me.
Okay. You're here. Now find him.
My eyes scan the café, moving from table to table, searching for—
There.
Near the windows. A man sitting alone, his back to me, golden hair catching the afternoon light in a way that makes it look almost unreal.
As if sensing my gaze, he turns around.
A massive grin spreads across his face.
Keith.
My heart doesn't just skip a beat—it stops.
Completely. Then restarts with a painful thud that I feel in my throat.
He's here. He's really here.
He looks... the same. And completely different all at once.
The smile is the same—bright and unreserved, the kind of smile that makes you feel like you're the only person in the world worth looking at. The warmth in his eyes is the same too—genuine and open in a way that always made me feel safe.
But everything else...
God.
He's taller. Broader. The kind of build that comes from years of discipline and effort—shoulders that strain slightly against his shirt, arms that look like they could lift me without effort.
His hair is longer now, brushing against his collarbones in soft waves that catch the light every time he moves. Golden. Literally golden, like someone spun sunlight into thread and wove it into his hair.
He looks like a Greek god.
The thought comes unbidden and my face heats immediately.
Stop. Don't be weird. He's your friend. Just your friend.
But my heart is still pounding and my hands are shaking slightly and I can't quite make my feet move.
What if I act weird? What if he notices something's off? What if he realizes I'm broken now and decides I'm not worth—
Stop. Just walk over there.
I force my legs to move, weaving between tables until I'm standing in front of him. My smile feels nervous and shaky but I manage it anyway.
"Hey, Keith."
Keith stands up so fast his chair scrapes against the floor and before I can process what's happening, he's pulling me into a hug.
"Cecil! Missed you, dude!"
I freeze.
Every muscle in my body locks up—not from fear exactly, but from something I can't quite name. The hug is different. Tighter than I remember. Warmer. His arms are solid around me, holding me like I'm something precious, and I can feel the rise and fall of his breathing against my chest and—
This is too much. This is—
Keith pulls back suddenly, his hands still on my shoulders, his expression shifting from joy to concern in an instant.
"Cecil... are you okay?"
His voice cuts through the spiral and I blink, forcing myself back into the present.
Say something. Don't just stand there like an idiot.
"Yeah..." I manage, and my smile feels more natural this time. "It's just weird seeing you after all these years, Keith."
He frowns slightly, studying my face like he's searching for something. "Is it? I don't think I changed that much..."
He sits down and I follow, grateful to have something to do with my shaking hands.
"Your personality is the same," I say, letting my eyes drift over him again—the sculpted arms, the way his shirt fits just a little too perfectly, the golden hair that still looks unreal in the afternoon light.
"But otherwise... you're like a completely different person."
A gorgeous, unreasonably attractive different person.
Stop it.
Keith laughs—easy and unbothered—and I feel some of the tension drain out of my shoulders.
He's still Keith. Same laugh. Same warmth. Same everything that matters.
I lean back in my chair, letting the nervousness dissolve into something more comfortable. More us. "So, Keith... what's new?"
He grins. "Still in uni, though I'm two years ahead of you!"
I can't help but grin back. "Yeah, I know. Guess I can never be first at that."
"You'll definitely catch up!" Keith says it with such genuine confidence that something in my chest tightens.
He still believes in me. Even after all this time.
"So what are you studying?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"Computer Science, actually." His eyes light up when he says it—sparkling with the kind of enthusiasm that's impossible to fake.
"Whoa, really? That's so cool! I definitely didn't expect that."
Keith chuckles. "You know me, Cecil. I always loved tech stuff."
I do know. I remember. You used to take apart your game consoles just to see how they worked.
The conversation flows easily after that—Keith telling me about university, his classes, the projects he's working on. I learn about late-night coding sessions, the friends he's made, the professor who's apparently both brilliant and terrifying.
And the whole time, I just... listen. Soaking in the sound of his voice, the way his hands move when he talks, the way his smile never quite fades.
I missed this. I missed him.
"Oh—" Keith pauses mid-sentence, glancing at his phone. "Naomi's coming here too. She just wants to borrow some notes since she was sick last week."
Naomi.
The name lands in my chest like a stone.
Who's Naomi?
"Oh, okay," I say, keeping my voice as casual as possible. "When is she coming?"
Please be a guy. Please let Naomi be short for... I don't know, Napoleon or something.
"A few minutes, probably. She said she'd be here soon."
I nod, ignoring the uncomfortable tightness that's settled in my chest.
Why do I care? Keith can have friends. Female friends. It's fine. I'm fine.
You're jealous.
I'm not.
You absolutely are.
Before I can spiral further, the café door opens and a girl walks in.
Curly brown hair. Bright smile. Heels that look impossibly high and yet she's moving like she was born in them.
How does she do that? Do all women have some kind of hidden superpower?
Keith and I both stand and the girl—Naomi, presumably—spots us immediately. Her smile somehow gets even brighter.
"Hi there, Naomi," Keith greets her, his voice warm and friendly.
My chest tightens.
They're just friends. It's fine. You're being ridiculous.
But then Naomi does something completely unexpected.
She walks right past Keith—doesn't even look at him—and wraps her arms around me in a hug that's somehow both enthusiastic and oddly familiar.
What—
"OMG, hi!" she says, pulling back just enough to look at Keith with an exaggerated pout. "Why didn't you tell me you had such a cutie as a friend?"
Keith laughs but something flickers in his eyes—something darker than the easy warmth from before.
Is he... is he possessive of her?
The thought makes my stomach drop.
No. Please no. They're just friends. They have to be just—
"Exactly the reason why I didn't tell you, Naomi," Keith replies, and his tone is light but his eyes are still dark.
Wait.
He's not looking at her. He's looking at me.
The realization hits like cold water.
He's not possessive of Naomi. He's possessive of... me?
No. That's—that doesn't make sense. We're friends. That's all we've ever been.
Then why does your heart feel like it's trying to break out of your chest?
I shake my head slightly, forcing the spiraling thoughts down, and smile at Naomi. "Hi. You must be Naomi, right? I'm Cecil."
She grins—bright and knowing in a way that makes me slightly uncomfortable. "Yeah. Nice to meet you, Cecil."
There's something in her eyes. Something that says she knows more than she's letting on.
Does she know about the Celestians? About me?
Keith looks at me, his expression softening. "I'll go grab some drinks. Be right back."
He walks toward the counter and I sit down. Naomi immediately takes his seat—the one directly across from me—completely ignoring the fact that it wasn't hers to begin with.
She leans forward slightly, still smiling, and passes me a small piece of paper.
"Here's my number," she says casually. "And my mom's."
I take the paper automatically, my eyes dropping to the two phone numbers written in neat handwriting.
Her mom's.
Her mom.
I look up at Naomi—really look at her this time. The curly brown hair. The bright, mischievous eyes. The way she carries herself with easy confidence.
She looks like Nalani.
Oh...
OH!
Naomi winks. "I knew the moment you looked at me that you were already suspecting something. It's better to say the truth than hide it, don't you think?"
She knows. She knows I know.
How did she—
Before I can ask, Keith returns with the drinks. He passes me a cup of tea—my favorite kind, how does he still remember?—and sits down next to me this time instead of across.
Close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from him.
"Thanks," I murmur.
"No need to thank me, Cecil," Keith says softly.
He turns to Naomi, and I watch as his expression shifts—still friendly but cooler somehow. More guarded. "The cashier said you already ordered. Are you in a hurry?"
Naomi nods. "Yeah, I should get going." She glances at me for a brief moment—something unreadable passing through her expression—before looking back at Keith. "Thank you for letting me meet Cecil."
Keith smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Here are the notes. Please give them back before the next lesson."
Naomi takes the notes and grins. "Thanks, Keith! You're a lifesaver."
She looks at me one last time—that same knowing look from before—and then she's walking toward the counter, collecting her bubble tea, and disappearing out the door.
I watch her go, my mind still spinning.
She's Nalani's daughter. Keith probably doesn't know. Should I tell him? Can I tell him?
When I turn back to Keith, he's staring at me.
Not saying anything. Just... looking.
Then he bursts out laughing—genuine and bright and so quintessentially Keith that I can't help but smile.
"You should've seen your face!" he says between breaths. "Naomi is something else, right?"
I laugh, the tension finally breaking. "Yeah... she's definitely something else."
She's literally the daughter of the Goddess of Beauty and Fertility and you have no idea.
Keith's laughter fades into a softer smile, his eyes still on me.
"I'm really glad you're here, Cecil," he says quietly. "I've missed you."
Something in my chest cracks wide open.
I've missed you too. So much. More than I knew how to say.
"Missed you too, Keith," I manage, and my voice comes out smaller than I intended.
He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand—brief, warm, grounding.
And for just a moment, surrounded by the smell of coffee and the low hum of conversation and Keith's hand still lingering on mine—
Everything feels okay.