The dazzling stage lights and the roaring cheers of the concert gradually faded into the distance, giving way to slow, gentle days of exploring the capital city.

From Saturday evening, Nga and Thiên began their own little journey. No longer the rushed trips of youth, these were calm, savoring steps.

On Sunday morning, they strolled along the lakeside in the chilly dawn. A soft mist hovered over the water. Nga simply smiled, breathing deeply, soaking in the peace. Thiên walked beside her, his hand always ready whenever she stepped over the mossy stone edges.

He discovered one thing: Nga was still the girl who loved simplicity but was clumsy and terribly unathletic. After only a short walk, her legs were already tired and searching for a place to rest. She slipped into a small street-side café and ordered an Egg Coffee, warming her cold nose as she savored the rich, creamy warmth.

"I know you only like traditional black coffee," Nga said, glancing at Thiên sipping his drink. "But this is a signature specialty of the capital. Just try a bit."

Thiên smiled, his patience flowing through him like a warm stream.

"I'll enjoy it with my eyes. Watching you drink is enough to tell it's good."

But Nga had already scooped a full spoonful and held it up to him, her face bright with excitement. He accepted with a smile, tasted it, and his eyes softened.

"It's sweet," Thiên murmured teasingly. "Not the coffee—it's sweet because you're the one feeding me."

Throughout the trip, Nga slowly let her guard down. Thiên wasn't pushy nor did he ever overstep boundaries. He was simply thoughtful and attentive. When they walked through the bustling Old Quarter, he always stayed on the outside to shield her from traffic.

"Thiên, you really are quite the gentleman," Nga said softly when they paused by a flower vendor selling pure white lilies.

Thiên handed her a bouquet of lilies and said,

"This gentleman is trying his best to become the safest place for you... so you can let down your guard."

Nga didn't answer. She only looked up at him, her smile gentle, her eyes filled with a trust she'd never shown before.

On Tuesday afternoon, their short trip came to an end. At the airport, Thiên handled the luggage and transportation smoothly. The car stopped at Nga's doorstep.

"We're already home. That was fast," Nga said with a hint of regret.

"Good moments always pass quickly," Thiên replied, his eyes dimming, not ready for the goodbye.

He set her suitcase on the doorstep and didn't rush back to the car. Nga understood. She turned around and smiled at him.

"Get home safe. Text me when you arrive."

"Go inside now. And remember to lock the door," he reminded her gently.

Nga pulled her suitcase inside. Thiên didn't look away until she closed the wooden door, and only when he heard the soft click of the lock did he finally turn toward his car.

After the trip, their relationship quietly stepped into a new phase, marked by their increasingly frequent meetings.

For their first meal together afterward, Thiên brought up the promise Nga owed him. Nga chose a fancy Italian restaurant.

"Alright, this one's on me. I'll settle my debt once and for all," she said, handing her card to the waiter.

But when the card returned, the bill had already been paid.

"I took care of it," Thiên said gently. "Keep your card. I forgot we changed locations last minute, so I just paid for everything."

"Hey! That's not fair!" Nga protested.

He only smiled.

"It's okay. Let me treat you this time. Your debt can wait for the next one."

And so, Nga's "meal debt" kept getting postponed. Each time, Thiên was faster at paying, always with some playful excuse that resulted in another owed dinner. Eventually, she got used to it. She no longer fought to pay. She accepted his financial care—and his presence—as something natural.

Their meet-ups grew more frequent, and Thiên's affection remained a warm, quiet stream, never loud, never rushed.

By the last day of December, the city buzzed with preparations for Tết. Nga and Thiên sat in a cozy restaurant, having dinner together to "end the year."

Holding a glass of red wine, Nga looked at him.

"Tết is coming. Do you know when you'll go back to your hometown (về quê)?"

Thiên took a sip, his eyes tinged with sadness.

"I'm not sure yet. My construction project... looks like we'll have to work straight through Tết (xuyên Tết)."

Nga knew he rarely went home. She knew his projects were his lifeblood—but Tết was supposed to be a time for family.

"Working through Tết again?" she sighed, her voice filled with quiet sympathy.

"What about you? What's your Tết plan?" he asked, trying to shift the focus.

Nga brightened, describing her plans with the warm tone of someone talking about home:

"I'll be on break much longer than you. I'm going back on the 28th of the Lunar Calendar... I even have a whole 'fun schedule' planned."

She looked at Thiên, her gaze carrying a sincere, unreserved invitation.

Her voice softened, warm like flame:

"Thiên... I know you don't want to spend Tết alone. Come to my home. Not to 'tag along' (ké). I'm inviting you. You're my friend, and I want you to feel a real family warmth."

Her words were like a small flame warming Thiên's chest. Her hometown was only about an hour away—but this wasn't just an invitation. It was a doorway into her family, something deeply meaningful.

Thiên's eyes lit up instantly, filled with surprise and a happiness he couldn't put into words. He reached out and gently held her hand—a gesture no longer restrained. He knew she was giving him the most precious gift: trust, and a place to belong.

"Nga..." His voice caught, thick with emotion.

"What? If you're free, just come spend the day and go back after. I promise it's way more fun than staying at your construction site. Tết at my place feels like a party center—one more guest won't make a difference," she said, her smile glowing like candlelight.

Thiên looked into her eyes. He understood fully—this was the most important milestone.

"I... I'll definitely try to arrange it. I'll make sure to visit your home," he said, the patience he'd held onto for so long finally being rewarded.

Nga beamed. She didn't know that to Thiên, this was priceless—a place to return to, a family warmth he'd longed for all his life.

*Glossary – Vietnamese Cultural Terms

• Cà phê trứng (Egg coffee):
A traditional Hanoi drink made with strong coffee topped with whipped egg yolk and sweetened condensed milk; rich, creamy, and warm.

• Gánh hàng rong:
A small mobile street vendor setup in Vietnam, typically selling flowers, food, or snacks.

• Hoa loa kèn (Lilies):
A popular spring flower in northern Vietnam, symbolizing purity.

• Tết (Lunar New Year):
The biggest annual holiday in Vietnam, focused on family reunions, ancestral traditions, food, and celebration.

• 28 Âm lịch (28th day of the Lunar calendar):
A date based on the lunar calendar used for Tet preparations.

• Về quê:
To return to one's hometown, usually to visit family — very culturally significant during Tet.

• Xuyên Tết:
Working straight through the Tet holiday instead of taking time off.