The mountain was still asleep when they started trekking. The sky was deep blue, almost black, with faint hints of silver spreading slowly at the horizon. It was around 4 a.m., the kind of hour where the world feels untouched, where even sounds hesitate before existing.
Maya walked ahead, her silhouette steady against the uneven trail. She was leading, her steps careful yet confident, her breath visible in the cold air. Ryan followed just a step behind, not because he couldn't lead, but because he knew when not to.
He wasn't the kind of man who believed strength meant walking ahead all the time.
He believed strength meant being there.
The ground was rough, small stones slipping under their shoes, the path narrow and unpredictable. The cold bit into their skin, sharp and honest. Now and then, Maya's steps faltered just for a second and before fear could even reach her heart, Ryan's hand was already there. Not tight. Not forceful. Just… steady.
Whenever her balance wavered, his fingers wrapped around hers naturally, as if her hand had always belonged there. As if the mountain itself had decided this was how it should be.
"You okay?" he asked softly once.
Maya nodded, smiling without turning back. "Yeah."
But inside, something shifted. Every time she felt the ground slip, there was no panic. No rush of fear. Just the quiet certainty that she wouldn't fall. Not because she was strong, but because someone had her.
And Ryan… Ryan noticed everything. The way she slowed down when the trail got steep. The way her shoulders tensed before she even realised it. The way her breath changed when she got tired. He adjusted without a word. Slowed his pace. Shortened his steps. Stayed close enough that she never felt alone. This was the kind of man he was. Not loud. Not dominating. But present.
By the time they reached the top, the sky had begun to soften. It was around 6 a.m., the air thinner, colder, cleaner. The mountain peak stretched wide and quiet, as if it had been waiting just for them. They sat side by side on a rock, their breath still heavy from the climb.
The sun hadn't risen yet. It felt almost playful, like it was hiding, teasing Maya, refusing to appear even though she had come all this way. Maya hugged her jacket closer around herself and closed her eyes. She let the cold air touch her face. Her cheeks. Her lips.
She inhaled deeply, slowly, as if she wanted to store this moment inside her lungs forever. The air smelled like earth and pine and something pure. Her heartbeat began to slow, matching the rhythm of the mountain.
She wasn't thinking about tomorrow or yesterday or anything else. She was just… here. Ryan turned slightly toward her. And for the first time in his life, he realised he was looking at someone differently.
Her eyes were closed, lashes resting softly against her cheeks. A few strands of hair escaped her cap, brushing against her face, dancing gently with the wind. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and her lips parted slightly as she breathed in and out.
Ryan forgot how to breathe. He had never looked at a girl like this before, not openly, not completely. There was no rush in his gaze. No hunger. Just admiration. Wonder. Something dangerously close to tenderness.
He wanted to reach out. Not to pull her closer. Not to claim anything. To tuck that strand of hair behind her ear. To see her face clearly. His fingers twitched slightly, resting against his knee. His heartbeat grew louder in his chest, heavy and unfamiliar. He felt it everywhere in his hands, his throat, the quiet space between them.
Maya exhaled slowly. And Ryan felt like she had taken the air out of him with that single breath. She opened her eyes. The world was still quiet. Still waiting. For a brief second, she felt something warm, steady, comforting right beside her. She turned her head slightly. And met his eyes. Time paused. The mountain. The cold. The hidden sun. None of it mattered.
There was something in the way Ryan looked at her, something gentle, almost vulnerable, that made her chest tighten. She had climbed many mountains before. Faced storms. Walked paths alone. But she had never felt this.
The feeling that even if she became weak, even if she lost her balance again, not just on the mountain, but in life, there would be someone there. Not to lead her. Not to control her. But to hold her hand and say, I've got you.
Her fingers brushed his, a touch that felt too deliberate to be an accident. When their gazes locked, neither moved to break the connection, letting the quiet weight of the moment pull them closer. The sun still hadn't risen. But something else had. And both of them felt it quietly, deeply, beautifully.
The sun rose slowly. Not all at once, no rush, no drama, just a soft glow spilling gently over the edge of the world. Thin golden rays slid through the clouds, touching the mountain peaks first, as if asking permission before arriving. The cold air began to change. It wasn't warmer yet, just… kinder.
Maya stood still, her arms loosely wrapped around herself, eyes fixed on the horizon. The light reflected in her eyes, making them shimmer gold and amber and something deeper Ryan couldn't name. She inhaled, long and slow.
"It's beautiful," she said quietly, almost as if she didn't want to disturb the moment. She tilted her face slightly toward the sun. "Right?"
Ryan didn't answer immediately. He was facing the sunrise too, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, shoulders relaxed. But his attention wasn't on the sky anymore. It was on her.
"Not more than you," he said softly.
Maya froze. Her breath caught halfway in. Her fingers tightened instinctively around the edge of her jacket. She turned toward him, eyes wide with surprise.
Ryan still hadn't looked at her. His gaze remained on the rising sun, but his voice...his voice was steady now, certain.
"You know," he continued, "you're the brightest sunrise in my life."
Her heartbeat skipped. He finally turned his head. The sunlight touched the side of his face, outlining his jaw, softening his expression. His eyes met hers, warm, honest, unguarded.
"Whenever I see you smile," he said, quieter now, "my day becomes more beautiful than this."
Maya felt something bloom in her chest, soft and overwhelming all at once. She swallowed.
"I'm not…" she began, then paused. Her shoulders rose and fell as she took a breath. "...I'm not the kind of person who's always happy or smiling at everyone."
Ryan didn't interrupt. She looked back at the sun, her voice steady but layered with something deeper.
"I was a stubborn kid," she said with a faint smile. "Angry. Impatient. Always arguing. I wasn't sweet or gentle." Her fingers curled slightly, resting against her knee.
"And then…" she hesitated. "...then I went to a cancer hospital."
Ryan's chest tightened. She continued, eyes still on the light. "I was young. Too young to understand everything. But I saw people… children… who smiled even when they were in pain. I saw how short life could be."
Her voice softened. "And right there, in that moment, I decided something. I decided that no matter how hard life gets, I'll smile back at it."
Ryan watched her profile the way her lips moved, the way her breath trembled just a little.
"There were days," Maya said, "when I didn't feel like smiling at all, there were moments when it hurt too much… when I couldn't even stretch my lips." Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn't stop.
"Even then," she said, "I smiled. For the people around me. Because they smiled at me." Silence settled between them. Not heavy. Not awkward. Just real.
Ryan slowly reached out. His hand found hers, resting gently on her knee. His fingers wrapped around her hand, warm, grounding. Maya felt it instantly. The steady pressure. The quiet reassurance. She looked down at their joined hands.
"You don't have to," he said. She looked up at him.
"If you don't want to smile," he continued softly, ...don't force yourself, don't carry that weight alone.'' His thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles.
"I'll smile for you..." he said. ...I'll become that sunshine for you." Maya's breath trembled.
The sun had fully risen now, flooding the mountain with gold. But she barely noticed it anymore. Because for the first time in her life, she realised she didn't have to be strong all the time and that realisation felt brighter than any sunrise.