That evening, after getting off work, Nga lay on her bed with an arm resting across her forehead. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, then let out a soft laugh.

Her workload was finally done, and she could temporarily breathe—at least for a few days. But instead of relaxing, her mind was racing through a checklist: plane tickets, hotel booking, concert schedule, things to pack...

"I can't let Thiên handle everything," she muttered. "He's not my all-purpose butler, for heaven's sake."

Just as she finished the thought, her phone rang. The screen lit up with one word: "Thiên."

She laughed quietly. Speak of the devil.

"Hey, it's me," Thiên said—his voice deep, warm, with a hint of exhaustion after a long day.

"Thanks for the concert tickets," Nga said slowly. "But let me book the flights and the hotel. If you do everything, I'll feel embarrassed."

On the other end, Thiên smiled, already picturing her tiny frown—her trademark expression whenever she insisted on being "independent no matter what."

"Too late," he said, calm but a little smug. "I booked everything. I was just about to call and tell you."

"What? That fast?"

"Yep. We fly to the capital at 11 p.m. this Friday. One night there, then the concert the next afternoon. Your project just wrapped up, so you're free for a few days, right?"

"Yeah... I can take up to five days off."

"Perfect. We'll fly back Tuesday afternoon, you rest one more day, then return to work. Flawless plan."

Nga let out a long sigh—one of pure satisfaction.

"Fantastic. As always, only you get me. You understand me better than I understand myself."

After her sincere compliment, the line turned quiet for a few seconds—creating a soft, romantic pause between them.

When Thiên spoke again, his voice was gentler, half teasing, half earnest: "I understand what you want... but do you understand what I feel?"

Nga's heart skipped a beat. For five years he had always hinted at this kind of affection, but this was the first time she could hear the genuine seriousness in his tone.

She chose the one method she always used—avoidance via humor.

"Oh boy, here we go again with the cheesy lines!" she burst out laughing, purposely lightening the mood. "Honestly? I'm not ready to 'invest' in an engineer who only talks about concrete and steel!"

"Oh? Really?" Thiên chuckled. "Then you just missed out on a very promising 'stock.' Alright, I'll stop teasing."

His voice shifted into something steady and reassuring.

"Just leave the whole trip to me, okay, buddy? My brain's been working twelve hours a day—I deserve a real break."

"Okay, deal," she replied. "Your job is to handle everything—from flights and hotels to what I eat and drink. I'll just enjoy."

The call ended, but her heartbeat felt slightly uneven. Nga stared at his profile photo—a safety helmet and a bright smile under the sun.

She shook her head lightly. "Thiên... when will you stop making me feel so flustered?"

One week later — 5:12 p.m., Friday.

The room glowed in soft, golden evening light. Nga was excitedly packing her suitcase—T-shirts, light dresses, a small crossbody bag, and of course... her precious B-Bong, the official lightstick of the group B&B, which she treasured like a relic.

She stared at it and sighed.

"Oh no... I don't have Day-Bong, DAYG's official lightstick. Guess I'll buy one there and hope it's not sold out."

Her phone chimed.

Thiên: "Hello beautiful, get ready to unbox this 🎁"

He attached a photo of a shiny box—A limited edition DAYG lightstick.

Nga almost dropped her phone.

"What?! Where did you even get this?" she called immediately.

"Well... I have my ways," he said, teasing.

"How much? Tell me. I'm not taking a free gift."

"I'm not selling. I want to give it to you. If you don't take it, I'll just leave it in my closet."

"You really know how to make it hard to refuse," she laughed. "Fine. I owe you a meal. I'm writing it down."

"Deal. Oh—and since you live near the airport, I'll swing by early to hand it to you and wait so we can go together."

Nga froze.

Five years.

Five years of chatting on Zalo and Messenger—sharing everything from broken designs and failed projects to school gossip and idol scandals. Yet she had never once told him exactly where she lived.

She had always kept that final boundary.

But today... his sincerity, his thoughtfulness, and the effort he put into this trip slowly dissolved it. "We're about to meet anyway. What's the point of hiding now?"

For the first time in five years, Thiên learned where she lived. He read the address and smiled faintly—mysterious, knowing. Everything—the tickets, the lightstick, and now this address—had all unfolded just as he expected.

Because he knew his girl too well.

8:30 p.m. The doorbell rang urgently.

She opened the door.

And in that moment, her house key slipped from her hand, hitting the floor with a small but sharp sound. She didn't even look down.

Every sense in her body narrowed onto the man standing in front of her. Distant airplane noises, traffic sounds from below—everything faded away.

Nga stared, wide-eyed. "Thiên... is that you?"

Five long years since their last meeting—and the man before her was both breathtakingly unfamiliar and achingly familiar.

The soft, studious boy she remembered had grown into a striking, confident engineer.

He wore a crisp white shirt and tailored black trousers that emphasized his tall, lean build and broad, masculine shoulders. His jawline was sharper, his features strong—yet his eyes still held the same warmth and tenderness she once knew.

Thiên looked at her with a gentle, devoted gaze—like a man quietly relieved that the person he had cherished for years was finally standing in front of him.

Tonight, Nga wore a deep wine-red dress with elegant cut-out shoulders. Her complexion—soft and rosy like a newly bloomed peach blossom—seemed to glow under the hallway light. Her oval face looked more refined, more mature. And her eyes... those deep, luminous black eyes... now carried a spark of intelligence and quiet confidence.

She was beautiful—sweet yet striking, soft yet captivating. Thiên couldn't look away.

He stood there, smiling, his gaze attempting to bridge the five years of distance between them.

"Hello, gorgeous," he said, his deeper, more mature voice wrapping around her like warm velvet. "Long time no see."

📝 Cultural Notes / Glossary for Non-Vietnamese Readers

"Nhắc Tào Tháo, Tào Tháo tới" (Speak of Cao Cao): Vietnamese idiom similar to "Speak of the devil (and he shall appear)." Cao Cao was a historical Chinese warlord known for appearing unexpectedly.

Zalo: A highly popular Vietnamese messaging app, often used like WhatsApp or WeChat.

Lightstick (B-Bong / Day-Bong): Official glowing batons fans use at K-pop concerts. The term 'Bong' is an affectionate Vietnamese variation often used when referring to lightsticks.

"Cổ phiếu" / "Stock" (in relationship context): Used humorously to describe a person as a valuable long-term investment in life or relationships.

"Engineer who only talks about concrete and steel": A common, gentle stereotype in Vietnam to describe an engineer as being rigid, serious, and solely focused on technical work.

"Ông chú kỹ sư" (Engineer Uncle): A popular Vietnamese internet slang term used to describe a man in his late 20s or 30s who is mature, successful (often an engineer), and attractively stylish in a subtle, dependable way. (The translation chose "striking, confident engineer" for flow, but the original term carries this mature-yet-attractive subtext).