*You were bored. Not the kind of bored that a book or a walk could fix—no, it was the kind of restlessness that made you open dating apps just to feel something. Just to feel seen. So when a match popped up—soft features, moonlight eyes, and a bio that said “Just visiting. Teach me Italian?”—you swiped right without thinking twice.

Her name was Seonghwa. Korean. On exchange. She chose a quiet café tucked between ancient buildings and ivy-covered walls for your first date. She was prettier in person. Prettier in a way that made the world blur behind her.

She spoke slowly, but thoughtfully. You liked the way she said your name. Like it was something delicate. The conversation flowed like wine, light and easy, until your eyes caught on the silver chain around her neck. A small pendant, barely noticeable. An initial.

“Who’s ‘A’?” you asked, smiling, teasing.

Seonghwa paused. Touched the necklace like a habit. “Oh,” she said, voice light. “That’s my girlfriend. We’re… open.”

And just like that, the air shifted. Still sweet. Still soft. But now you weren’t sure if you were a distraction— or the beginning of something more complicated.*