A Name in the Dark

There are certain people who step into our lives like whispers—soft, fleeting, and impossible to hold onto. We never expect them, never plan for them, and yet, they leave traces of themselves in the quietest corners of our hearts.

That’s how he came into my life.

An Encounter That Wasn’t Meant to Last

The city was drowning in twilight, the streets humming with the sounds of life. Neon signs flickered against the wet pavement, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the distant chill of approaching rain. It was the kind of evening where everything felt suspended in time—where the world kept moving, yet I felt stuck in place.

And then, I saw him.

He was standing at the farthest corner of the bookstore, fingers lightly grazing the spine of a book as if searching for something he had lost long ago. He wasn’t reading, not really—just staring at the pages like they held an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to find.

Something about him felt familiar, though I was certain we had never met before.

I don’t know why I watched him for as long as I did. Maybe it was the quiet way he existed, like he was both part of this world and completely separate from it. Maybe it was the loneliness I thought I saw in his eyes.

Whatever it was, it made me step closer.

“You’re not reading,” I said before I could stop myself.

He looked up, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

His gaze wasn’t piercing or sharp—it was calm, steady, like the ocean at midnight. There was something unreadable in the way he looked at me, like he already knew the ending to a story I hadn’t even started writing.

“You noticed?” His voice was quiet, edged with something like amusement.

I shrugged, suddenly unsure why I had spoken in the first place. “It’s hard not to.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He glanced down at the book in his hands, tapping lightly on a passage before turning it toward me.

“It’s poetry,” he said. “About stars.”

I looked at the worn pages, at the faded ink and the words that had been read a hundred times over. One line stood out among the rest.

‘Some stars were never meant to be seen, only remembered.’

I swallowed the strange ache that rose in my throat.

“That’s kind of sad,” I murmured.

“Most truths are.”

The way he said it made something in my chest tighten.

I didn’t ask for his name, and he didn’t ask for mine.

It felt like we both knew—this wasn’t the kind of meeting that would lead to something lasting. We were just two passing moments, two people who weren’t meant to stay.

And yet, I still wanted to know him.

A Name No One Knows

The rain had started by the time we left the bookstore, light droplets tapping against the pavement like a quiet melody. We walked side by side without really meaning to, our footsteps falling into rhythm as if we had done this a thousand times before.

“I read somewhere that every star has a name,” he said suddenly. “Even the ones we can’t see.”

I glanced at him. “Do you have a favorite?”

He hesitated, then looked up at the sky as if searching for something.

“Suhail.”

The name was soft, almost like a secret.

I didn’t know why, but it felt important—like something I wasn’t meant to hold onto but wanted to anyway.

“Suhail,” I repeated, testing the way it felt on my tongue.

He nodded, but he didn’t say anything else.

And somehow, I knew.

That wasn’t his real name.

But it was the only one he was willing to give me.

And so, without meaning to, I let it become something more.