Chapter 35: Valentine's Day Kiss
Valentine's Day arrived quietly.
There were no fireworks in the sky, no dramatic announcements, no rushing hearts pounding out of fear. Instead, the day unfolded gently, like it knew better than to push.
Lucia woke up with a strange calm in her chest.
For the first time in a long while, Valentine's Day didn't feel like a reminder of what she lacked. It didn't feel like pressure or expectation. It felt… hopeful.
She moved through her morning slowly. Made coffee. Let the sunlight spill across her kitchen floor. Checked her phone once, then set it down again.
She didn't need distractions today.
Her thoughts kept drifting back to the night before—the confession, the honesty, the way everything finally made sense without being overwhelming.
One grape at a time.
That's how they got here.
When Lucia stepped into the courtyard that evening, it looked even more beautiful than before.
The fairy lights were glowing brighter, strung carefully across the space like constellations brought down to earth. Soft music played somewhere nearby, barely loud enough to notice. The air was cool but comfortable, filled with quiet anticipation.
She spotted Jin almost immediately.
He stood near the center, hands clasped loosely in front of him, eyes lifting the moment he saw her. His face softened into a smile that felt familiar now—steady, warm, real.
"You came," he said, like it mattered.
"I did," Lucia replied, smiling back. "So did you."
He laughed softly. "I wasn't going to miss this."
They walked toward each other slowly, not because they were unsure, but because neither wanted to rush the moment.
"How was your day?" Jin asked.
Lucia shrugged lightly. "Peaceful. That's new for me."
He nodded. "Same. I kept thinking about what you said last night."
"Yeah?"
"That choosing someone doesn't have to be loud."
Lucia smiled. "It doesn't."
They stood beneath the lights again, the glow wrapping around them like a quiet promise.
Jin reached into his pocket and pulled something out.
Lucia raised an eyebrow. "Another note?"
He smiled sheepishly. "Last one. I swear."
She took it from him, unfolding it slowly.
Love didn't rush us.It waited.And somehow, that made it stronger.
Lucia looked up, eyes warm.
"You really believe in this," she said.
"I do," Jin replied. "Because it worked."
She nodded. "It did."
They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn't demand filling.
Lucia thought about everything that led them here—the notes, the conversations, the misunderstandings, the patience. None of it flashy. None of it forced.
Just consistent care.
"Can I tell you something?" Lucia asked quietly.
"Always."
"I used to think love had to feel overwhelming to be real," she said. "Like if it didn't knock me off my feet, it wasn't worth trusting."
Jin listened carefully.
"But this," she continued, gesturing softly between them, "this feels steady. And that scares me less than anything else ever has."
Jin smiled, eyes gentle. "That's how I feel too."
The music shifted slightly, a softer song drifting through the air.
Lucia felt her heart slow, not from uncertainty, but from certainty.
She took a small step closer.
Jin didn't move away.
"I'm glad we took our time," she said.
"Me too," he replied. "I think if we'd rushed, we might have missed this."
Lucia laughed softly. "All because of grapes."
He chuckled. "Who knew?"
They stood close now, close enough to feel each other's presence fully. No urgency. No fear.
Just intention.
Jin hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
"Lucia… may I?"
She knew what he was asking.
She nodded. "Yes."
Slowly, carefully, he leaned in.
The kiss was gentle.
Unhurried.
It wasn't fireworks or chaos or intensity—it was warmth. Comfort. A quiet affirmation of everything they had built together.
Lucia felt it not just on her lips, but in her chest.
This wasn't a beginning born from impulse.
It was the result of patience.
When they pulled back, they were both smiling.
"That," Lucia said softly, "was worth the wait."
Jin smiled. "Every step."
They stayed there under the fairy lights, hands brushing lightly, hearts steady, knowing that love hadn't arrived all at once.
It had grown.
One grape at a time.