Chapter 2

No one there.

Of course not.

She sighed softly and half-smiled at herself. Silly girl.

She shook her head and quietly muttered under her breath,

"Maybe he checked out…”

That’s when she heard it.

A voice.

“Nope. Didn’t.”

But from right behind her bench.

She froze.

Before her brain could even process it, her hand jolted — and coffee spilled out of her cup, splashing onto the pavement and right across her black top.

“Shit—” she gasped, standing up in pure panic, heart racing.

She turned.

And there he was.

Him.

Not behind some glass. Not on some balcony.

Just… there.

In front of her. Real. Close.

He was in a hoodie now. Navy blue. Slight stubble. Taller than she expected. His voice calm, the same calmness he carried in his eyes that day.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said quickly, raising a hand slightly, a small apologetic grin on his face.

Daisy’s mind was spinning.

He’s real. He’s actually here. He heard me.

“You—” she started, then stopped. Her hand went to her coffee-drenched shirt. “This is… wow. This is.....messy.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, eyes crinkling just slightly. “But I swear, it will be too weird to shout from a balcony.”

She laughed — half embarrassed, half in disbelief.

“So you were watching me?”

“I was... but only because you were watching me first.”

That shut her up for a second.

He had noticed her too. From day one.

And just like that, the invisible thread between the hotel balcony and the bench finally tied itself into something real. Something with a voice. With closeness. With coffee stains and heartbeats and real smiles.

The silence they used to share from across the road — it was gone now.

Now, it was time to talk.

Daisy blinked, taking in the whole moment: her ruined coffee, the embarrassing stain, and the fact that this man — Balcony Boy himself — was now standing here like a real person. Not an idea. Not a fantasy.

He nodded toward the bench. “May I?”

She hesitated… then slowly sat down again. “Sure, you already spilled my coffee. What’s the worst that can happen now?”

He grinned and took the other end of the bench.

There was a pause. Just long enough to be awkward.

“So,” he started, turning toward her slightly, “this is weird, right?”

Daisy huffed a little laugh. “Wildly.”

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, by the way. I was just coming down for air, and I saw you sit. I figured…” he trailed off, shrugging, “...I’d say hi. Properly.”

She tilted her head. “This is properly?”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, compared to long-distance staring from a fifth-floor balcony? I’d say yes.”

Daisy smiled. Finally, something about this whole thing felt less surreal and more… human.

“I’m Ethan, by the way,” he added after a second.

She raised an eyebrow, amused. “Ethan.”

“Yep.”

"Ethan"

“You’re not from here.”

It wasn’t a question — more like a realization wrapped in his voice.

The way he spoke… smooth, soft, undeniably British.

He smiled. “Caught me.”

“It was obvious,” she said, finally breaking the pause with a small, knowing grin.