The city at night seemed draped in sparkling light. Lamps stretched reflections across the river, mirroring the two of them walking side by side along the bank, where there were no idle whispers only the shortening distance between their hearts.
Bach Lan felt herself growing used to his presence. Every time he walked beside her, her heart would involuntarily flutter, as if all her defenses had turned to dust.
The night wind brushed past, carrying a subtle chill that made her shiver. Instantly, Trach Hien took off his coat and, without a word, gently draped it over her shoulders.
"Are you always like this?" – She asked, looking up at him, a faint smile playing on her lips. – "Overly considerate."
He didn't smile; his gaze fixed on her.
"With you, is there such a thing as too much?"
In that moment, Bach Lan felt her heart tighten. His eyes were no longer calm like the wind; they carried a quiet fire, both tender and burning.
"You keep stepping back, but I've already fallen deep into this net of love."
She stayed silent, her eyes shimmering as they reflected the dazzling city lights. Her hand lightly gripped the hem of his coat.
He stepped closer, lifting her chin to meet his gaze, his voice hoarse from emotions held too long.
"I want to be your lover. Not just to be by your side, but in every way. Every glance, every breath, every smile. I want to be the one who brings you happiness."
His words made Bach Lan blush and feel dizzy, not from shock, but because she knew that she too was stirring with a deep, undeniable emotion, so strong she could no longer deny it.
A moment later, he drew her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"Give me a chance. Will you?"
She didn't speak, only nodded slightly, silently agreeing.
In the quiet of the night, the dark room was faintly lit by the weak glow of the bedside lamp. Bach Lan stirred, her eyelids trembling.
She had been asleep for a long time, yet her breathing grew quick, as if she were stepping into a world different from the one of dreams, strange yet eerily familiar.
***
She stood on a stone-paved path, a gently arched wooden bridge stretching across the still water ahead. The moon hung low, its pale light spilling onto the river's surface, smooth as glass, reflecting every step she took.
Suddenly, from behind, someone approached. A hand lightly rested on her shoulder.
"Let me warm you, tonight the air has turned cold." – The voice came, warm as silk, carrying a soft, husky gentleness.
She turned around.
A man stood right beside her, the moonlight catching his high nose, his eyes deep, tinged with melancholy. His clothes were simple, his demeanor elegant, yet there was something ethereally familiar about him. It was as if she had loved him deeply once before.
She smiled softly.
"You should put on another layer. Don't catch a cold."
The man said nothing, just looked at her quietly for a long moment, then adjusted the corner of her slightly rumpled coat.
"I fear you will get cold. I fear you might leave again." – He said, barely above a whisper.
Her heart froze for an instant, a surge of indescribable emotion crashing over her like a sudden wave.
Bach Lan didn't understand why she felt so moved, nor could she tell whether she was dreaming or reliving something that had truly happened.
A soft breeze passed, carrying the faint scent of forest flowers.
He suddenly stepped closer, lifting her chin with his hand, eyes meeting hers.
In that moment, her heart raced as if it might shatter. She saw herself, in that dream, surrendering to the depth in those eyes. And then a name slipped from the depths of her mind like a long-forgotten echo, a sound she had known in another life.
"Trach Hien."
She repeated it instinctively, a call buried deep in her soul finally breaking free. No hesitation, no doubt, the name rang out, as if destiny itself had already decided.
Then the moonlight fractured, and the scene slowly receded, dissolving into mist.
***
She jolted awake.
In the darkness, Bach Lan sat up, heart pounding violently, cold sweat soaking her back and forehead. Her breath still came in ragged gasps, as if she had just stepped out of another world.
"Trach Hien." she whispered the name again.
Her hand flew to her chest, feeling the chaotic rhythm of her heartbeat. The face of the person in her dream was unclear, yet the sensation left a deep mark in her soul.
She couldn't understand why this time the name had burst from her lips, nor why it left her aching so painfully.
But one thing she felt certain of: if that name was Trach Hien, then perhaps her heart had not chosen wrongly.
Late in the afternoon, the last rays of sunlight streamed through the glass window, bathing the small room in a soft golden glow.
Bach Lan sat at the old wooden table, flipping through the pages of a book, her eyelashes lowered, creating a strangely peaceful scene. The faint scent of jasmine tea lingered in the air, mingling with the soft jazz playing from a small speaker in the corner.
Trach Hien stepped in, carrying a paper bag. He said nothing, quietly moving behind her, and bent slightly to place a peach-flavored mousse cake on the table, her favorite, though she rarely bought it herself, always saying, "Too sweet, I can't finish it."
"You bought sweets again?" – She tilted her head toward him, a small smile on her lips but a hint of reproach in her eyes.
He did not answer immediately. Instead, he pulled out a chair and sat across from her, resting his chin on his hand, eyes quietly tracing every curve of her face as if committing it to memory.
"Because you never indulge yourself." – He said softly. – "So, I have to do it for you."
She paused.
Trach Hien then took a small napkin from the bag and gently wiped a smudge of ink from her cheek, something she hadn't noticed. His movements were careful, almost tender.
"When you read, it's like you're in another world. I just want to sit and watch, not do anything else."
Her cheeks warmed, and she did not reply, a subtle flutter stirring in her chest. In moments like this, Trach Hien made her feel as if she had fallen into a gentle dream, where words of care needed no embellishment, just his presence at the right time and that unusually soft gaze could make anyone quietly believe in forever.
He reached out, his warm hand enclosing hers.
"Bach Lan." – He said softly. – "I'm not good at promises. But I can be here every day, for you."
His voice was deep and slow, carrying a sincerity that made it easy to lose oneself in emotion.
She lowered her head, letting him hold her hand.
Outside the window, the sun had set. The twilight lingered like a slow stroke of color, painting a scene of gentle love, a moment that felt as if it could last forever.
In the days that followed, the bond between Bach Lan and Trach Hien grew deeper and more intimate. He always seemed to appear at the right moment, knowing exactly what she needed a cup of coffee when she was tired, an umbrella when she forgot hers on a rainy day, or even a simple goodnight message in the late hours.
Trach Hien felt like he was sketching the perfect version of an ideal lover.
"I just want you to be happy."
"I don't want you to be burdened by the pressures at Trach Vu."
"If you feel something is unfair, you should speak up. Don't bear it all alone."
He spoke these words with genuine care; his eyes focused solely on her.
Then, one quiet evening at Trach Hien's apartment, while they sat reviewing an internal proposal together, he asked softly:
"Do you trust me?"
Bach Lan looked up, slightly puzzled.
"What do you mean?"
There was a flicker of hesitation in his gaze, and then he sighed, shaking his head lightly as if he had wrestled with himself before speaking:
"I know this might make things difficult for you. But have you noticed that Trach Dong has often dismissed suggestions from the PR department, especially the ideas you put forward?"
She froze for a moment when he brought up Trach Dong on his own.
"I don't want you to be buried. You have potential, you have vision, but he always keeps such tight control. If you had a little more data, like internal plans or market analyses, I could help you prove your ability to the board."
Trach Hien spoke carefully, his words never directly attacking Trach Dong, but skillfully stirring the doubts that had quietly lingered in her.
For a moment, her heart sank. She had, at times, wondered why Trach Dong ignored some of her proposals.
But just as quickly, she shook her head, pushing the thought away. She could not let personal feelings betray her professional conscience.
Bach Lan stayed silent. After a while, she lifted her head, her eyes clear and unwavering.
"I know you care about me, but I can't do that."
Her voice was soft yet firm.
"Trach Dong has his own way of working. You may not always agree, but you know he's never done anything to harm the department. If you hand internal data to an outsider without approval, it's no longer advice, it's betrayal."
A flicker of disappointment crossed Trach Hien's face, but in the next instant, he smiled.
"I understand. I'm just concerned for you."
She nodded gently, saying nothing more. The room settled into a quiet stillness, heavy yet strangely peaceful.
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