The sun hung high in the sky, casting sharp shadows over the bustling streets of Brighton. The city thrummed with its usual rhythm—cars honking, buses weaving through traffic, street vendors shouting over the din. Amid the crowd, a bus pulled up beside the curb with a screech of brakes.
Passengers spilled out in a rush.
Among them stepped a boy dressed in full white—shirt crisp, pants neatly pressed, his only contrast a black watch wrapped around his wrist.
Solace.
He glanced around, eyes narrowing slightly at the chaos swirling around him.
No matter how many days I live in Brighton,
I'll never get used to this madness.
At the heart of Brighton University lay a place that wasn't marked on any formal campus map, yet every student knew it by name—The Courtyard Circle.
It wasn't just a meeting spot. It was the pulse of the campus.
Shaded by sprawling rain trees and framed by old red-brick buildings that bore the stains of decades, the Circle was where stories started—where protests sparked, friendships bloomed, and love quietly unfolded between unfinished cups of tea.
Stone benches lined the space in a haphazard semicircle. Some were chipped, graffiti-scribbled, or patched with moss, but they held memories in their worn edges. A wide tiled platform stood at the center, often used as a makeshift stage for cultural fests or heated political speeches. Pigeons fluttered around its edges, unbothered by the crowd.
Nearby, an old café operated from a small one-story building with a tin roof and smoke-stained walls. The scent of fried lentil cakes and milk tea floated through the air, weaving into the sweat and laughter of the students who never seemed to stop arriving.
Artists gathered in one corner with sketchbooks in hand, while debaters argued passionately in another. Musicians strummed guitars under the trees, and somewhere in the background, a loudspeaker echoed a half-rehearsed drama dialogue from a student theatre group.
It was a mess. But a beautiful one.
Solace made his way to the Courtyard Circle—the place where they had decided to meet. He was quite familiar with it, having spent countless afternoons here. The courtyard, alive with the chatter of students and the shuffle of footsteps, buzzed with its usual, chaotic charm.
He glanced at his watch.
Almost time.
Solace stood waiting inside the courtyard. The clock struck 11:15.
They had agreed to meet at 11. But there was still no sign of Lily.
Will she not come?
He wondered.
Let's wait another fifteen minutes. If she still doesn't show up... I'll head home.
Five minutes passed.
Still no sign.
Then, his phone rang.
Lily's name flashed on the screen. He picked up the call.
"Where are you?" Solace asked, trying not to let the worry show in his voice.
"I'm here… where you told me to come," came Lily's soft, soothing reply. "But I can't seem to find the courtyard."
Solace smiled, already feeling a little more at ease.
"Tell me what you see around you."
Lily began describing her surroundings.
"Got it. Stay right there. I'm coming," he said, ending the call.
A small chuckle escaped him as he began walking.
This girl...
She grew up in Brighton, and yet she can't find the courtyard? How funny.
They had seen each other only in pictures—this would be their first time meeting face to face. With each step, anticipation curled tighter in Solace's chest.
Soon, he stepped out of the courtyard.
And there she was.
Lily stood quietly beside a stone bench.
Lily's look radiated gentle charm and quiet elegance.
She wore a delicate white eyelet dress, its soft fabric hugging her figure just enough to accentuate her natural grace. The neckline dipped into a modest V, framed by fluttery cap sleeves that added a touch of femininity. The dress flowed to just below her knees, where intricate lacework danced around the hem in a pattern that let sunlight flicker through with every step she took.
It was light, airy, and effortlessly beautiful—perfect for a summer afternoon.
Her sandals were simple yet refined: transparent heels with thin ankle straps that gave her just the right lift without drawing attention away from the rest of her outfit. On her ears, a pair of small pearl studs shimmered subtly, and around her neck, a fine silver chain held a tiny pendant that rested just above her collarbone.
Her makeup was soft and minimal—just a touch of blush on her cheeks, a sweep of mascara to frame her eyes, and a nude-pink gloss that highlighted the natural curve of her lips. Her hair was parted softly to the side, falling in loose waves that framed her face and danced with the breeze.
Altogether, Lily looked like someone who hadn't tried too hard, yet managed to take your breath away. Her presence was calm and luminous—like the first bloom of jasmine on a warm night.
Solace's movement stopped seeing her. It became hard for him to take his gaze off of her. He felt like the busy city around him suddenly ceased of all noise. Everything was calm.
He stood there watching her. She looked so elegant and gentle in white.
Lily was anxiously waiting for Solace. She was on edge from yesterday night. Solace, the boy she met online. The boy who occupied her heart. She was about to meet him soon. Very soon.
She was looking around her. And suddenly her eyes met his. Solace was standing a few steps from her. He wore a crisp white shirt, its collar slightly open, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal his forearms. The fabric caught the light in a way that made him look almost luminous under the summer sky.
His slim-fit trousers, also white, matched the shirt seamlessly—simple, clean, yet effortlessly striking. A black leather watch circled his wrist, the only contrast in his monochrome look, grounding the calm aura he carried.
His hair, slightly tousled by the breeze, framed his face naturally—dark, soft, and neat without being overly styled. His features were calm and composed, but his eyes held something deeper. A quiet fire. Nervous anticipation softened his otherwise steady gaze, the kind that lingered when he looked at something—or someone—that mattered.
They locked gazes. Neither could take their eyes from the other.
"Lily?"
"Solace?"
They spoke at the same time. A few seconds later, they laughed. They closed the distance between them.
"You look more beautiful in person" Solace commented. Lily was a little shorter than him.
"You too. You look like a hero in a movie." Lily laughed.
"Shall we go to the cafe? " Solace proposed.
Lily nodded. They made their way to the nearby cafe.
The café sat tucked into a quiet lane just off the main university road—charming, unpretentious, and kissed with sunlight. Its signboard, hand-painted and slightly faded at the edges, swung gently in the breeze. Potted plants framed the entrance, trailing soft green vines over the doorway like a curtain of calm in the bustle of Brighton.
Inside, the café was a blend of rustic wood and soft-toned lighting. Wooden beams lined the ceiling, and the walls were adorned with mismatched photo frames—some filled with black-and-white cityscapes, others with pressed flowers behind glass. The air smelled faintly of roasted coffee beans and cardamom, mixed with the delicate sweetness of freshly baked pastries.
The tables were small, round, and spaced just far enough apart to allow for hushed conversations. A narrow shelf ran along one wall, cluttered with books, old board games, and half-burned candles. Gentle acoustic music played from hidden speakers, weaving a mellow rhythm into the afternoon.
In the corner, by a wide window that overlooked the leafy street outside, sat a table for two—quiet, cozy, private.
It was the kind of place where time slowed, and even silence felt full.
They sat facing each other, a small table and two steaming cups between them.
"You grew up in Brighton. How come you don't know where the courtyard is?" Solace asked, a smile tugging at his lips.
Lily pouted slightly. "I did grow up here. But that doesn't mean I wander around the city all the time."
Solace chuckled and ordered two coffees. The drinks arrived moments later, their warmth curling upward in soft wisps of steam.
"So, how's your new life?" Lily asked, wrapping her fingers around the cup.
"New life? You mean after coming to Brighton?" Solace raised a brow and took a sip.
"Yeah."
"Well… I'm adapting," he said. "I still don't know how you manage to live in this city. It's always so noisy and chaotic. But I can't deny—everything is fast, convenient. Advanced, even."
Lily smiled. "It's the capital. That's just how it is."
Their conversation flowed with an ease that surprised even them. Soon it was lunchtime. They wandered into a nearby restaurant, sharing a quiet meal. Afterwards, they roamed the streets together—browsing stalls, pausing to point out small things, laughing over random memories.
Lily found herself watching Solace more than she should have. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at her when he thought she wouldn't notice. She felt ridiculous for staring, but she couldn't stop. In her eyes, he was effortlessly charming.
And in her heart, she wished time would slow—just for this moment to stretch a little longer.
But 4 p.m. came too soon.
It was time to part ways.
Neither of them wanted to say goodbye. There was a quiet reluctance in the way they lingered—one more smile, one more glance. But the clock was unforgiving.
Solace arranged a ride for Lily. The vehicle pulled up to the curb with a low hum. She stepped inside, her face still turned toward him as the door closed.
He stood there as she drove away, watching until her figure disappeared into the stream of traffic. His expression was unreadable to others—but to him, it was longing.
A part of him already knew.
Moments like this… may not last forever.
But they were worth everything.