For nearly two weeks, Jenny's life had taken on a strange rhythm. Phillip's presence no longer came like a sudden storm in the middle of the night. Instead, it appeared quietly through gifts and deliveries that showed up at her door when she least expected them.
Sometimes it was food—warm meals carefully wrapped as if someone had gone out of their way to make sure she wouldn't go hungry. Other times it was books, clothes, or small thoughtful items she never mentioned wanting but somehow needed.
And almost every time, tucked somewhere between the items, there was a handwritten poem.
At first, Jenny thought it was some kind of joke.
A robber who wrote poetry?
The idea sounded ridiculous.
But after the third poem, she realized something strange: she was starting to look forward to them.
Each delivery came with the same messy handwriting she had begun to recognize instantly. Sometimes the poems were playful, teasing her about the noodles she cooked that first night. Other times they were surprisingly thoughtful, filled with lines about courage, curiosity, and quiet strength.
Jenny kept every single one.
She folded them carefully and placed them inside a small notebook beside her bed.
Each night before sleeping, she found herself rereading one.
And every time she did, the same question returned.
Why me?
Why would a man like Phillip—someone who lived in danger and chaos—take time to send her poems?
She didn't understand it.
Yet the thought of him made her heart beat a little faster.
Then one evening, something unexpected happened.
Jenny had just returned from school and was halfway through reviewing her lecture notes when her phone rang. The number was unfamiliar.
"Hello?" she answered cautiously.
"Someone is asking for you outside," the voice on the other end said briefly before the call ended.
Jenny frowned.
Outside?
Her curiosity immediately sparked.
She walked toward the window and gently pushed the curtain aside.
A black car was parked just outside the hostel compound.
And leaning casually against the side of it was Phillip.
Her heart skipped so hard she almost stepped back from the window.
For a moment she simply stared.
He looked exactly the same—relaxed, confident, completely at ease as if waiting outside her hostel was the most normal thing in the world.
Jenny took a deep breath and stepped outside.
As she approached, Phillip straightened slightly and gave her that familiar grin.
For a brief second, excitement rushed through her chest before she quickly forced herself to stay calm.
"You called me out here?" she asked.
Phillip nodded toward the car.
"Go get dressed," he said casually.
Jenny blinked.
"What?"
"We're going out for dinner."
The words caught her completely off guard.
For a moment she just stared at him.
Dinner?
With him?
Her heart was racing so fast she could feel it in her throat.
But before she could stop herself, she heard the word leave her mouth.
"Okay."
Phillip smirked slightly, clearly amused by how quickly she agreed.
Jenny hurried back to her room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it for a second.
Her heart was pounding.
What am I doing? she thought.
This was a man who had once broken into her room with a gun.
And yet here she was… rushing to get ready for dinner with him.
She quickly changed clothes, trying three different outfits before settling on one that looked simple but elegant. She brushed her hair carefully, checking herself in the mirror one last time.
Her reflection stared back at her.
Her cheeks were slightly flushed.
She looked… excited.
Jenny grabbed her bag and hurried outside.
Phillip was still leaning against the car, watching the street lazily.
When he saw her approach, his eyes briefly scanned her before a small smile appeared.
"You clean up well," he said.
Jenny rolled her eyes slightly.
"Don't get used to it."
Phillip chuckled and opened the car door for her.
The small gesture surprised her.
For someone who lived a dangerous life, he had moments of unexpected politeness.
The drive through the city was quiet but comfortable.
Streetlights passed overhead, casting golden reflections across the windshield. Soft music played from the car speakers while the distant noise of traffic blended into the background.
Jenny stole a glance at him.
Phillip drove with one hand on the wheel, relaxed and confident as always.
"How did you even know where to find me?" she asked.
He smirked without looking at her.
"I know a lot of things."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting tonight."
Jenny shook her head but smiled.
Soon they arrived at a quiet restaurant tucked away from the busy streets.
It wasn't luxurious, but it was warm and intimate. Soft lights glowed from hanging lamps, and quiet music filled the room.
Phillip pulled out a chair for her.
Jenny raised an eyebrow.
"You rob people but still have table manners?"
Phillip laughed.
"Even criminals can be gentlemen sometimes."
They ordered food and spent the first few minutes talking casually.
But eventually Jenny asked the question that had been bothering her for days.
"Why do you keep sending those gifts?"
Phillip leaned back in his chair.
"And the poems," she added.
He watched her for a moment before answering.
"I like seeing you curious," he said simply.
Jenny frowned.
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"That's a strange reason."
Phillip shrugged.
"Life is boring when everything is predictable."
Jenny studied him.
For someone who joked so easily, there was something deeper behind his eyes.
Something wounded.
Something hidden.
The conversation slowly turned more personal.
Phillip told her about his childhood.
Being an only child.
Parents who were always busy.
Loneliness that grew louder every year.
"I watched movies a lot when I was younger," he admitted quietly. "In those movies, the bad guys always had power… respect. People feared them."
Jenny listened silently.
"So you decided to become one?" she asked softly.
Phillip gave a half smile.
"Something like that."
Jenny felt a tight knot form in her chest.
For the first time she realized something important.
Phillip wasn't just a criminal.
He was someone who had grown up alone.
And somewhere along the way, he chose the wrong path.
But that didn't mean he was beyond saving.
Without thinking, she gently placed her hand on the table near his.
Not quite touching.
But close.
Phillip noticed.
His eyes softened slightly, though he didn't mention it.
The rest of the night passed easily.
They laughed.
They teased each other.
And every now and then, their eyes met in a way that made Jenny look away quickly.
When Phillip finally drove her back to the hostel, the air felt heavier.
Like the night was ending too soon.
As they stood outside the gate, Jenny hesitated before speaking.
"Will I see you again?"
Phillip turned toward her with a teasing look.
"Oh… so now you want to see me?"
Jenny looked down slightly.
"Yes."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Phillip smiled.
"Then that's a yes."
He stepped back toward the car.
"I'll call you soon."
Jenny nodded.
As she walked back to her room, her thoughts felt like a whirlwind.
Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it.
Her heart was still racing.
She walked slowly to her bed and picked up one of Phillip's poems from the notebook.
Reading it again, she whispered softly to herself.
"I'll pray for him."
She didn't know why she said it.
Maybe because she sensed the danger surrounding him.
Maybe because she cared more than she wanted to admit.
But somewhere out there, Phillip was probably thinking about her too.
And neither of them realized just how deeply their lives were about to become intertwined.