Part 1: Sunlit coffee & Quiet Sparks
After their casual lunch, Celeste and Nolan found a quiet outdoor café nearby. The sunlight filtered through tree leaves, dancing across the table between them. Celeste ordered a mocha. Nolan went for a bold espresso. The air smelled of roasted beans, sugar, and something like the start of something new.
Celeste tilted her head back slightly and closed her eyes, basking in the sun. "I love this kind of weather. " she said with a lazy smile.
Nolan watched her quietly. The golden light painted her skin, her long red-brown hair glowing at the edges. She leaned back, looking completely at ease, like a cat in the afternoon warmth. He hadn't stared at anyone like this in a long time.
She opened her eyes and caught him looking. He didn't look away.
"Want another cup?" he asked casually, tapping the side of his espresso.
Celeste shook her head, smiling like she'd just woken from a dream. "Nope. I'm already too full of caffeine and sunlight."
Nolan hesitated, then finally said what he'd been holding in. "Celeste, I know I haven't been here long. But being on the same team with you—it's an honor."
She blinked, surprised by his sincerity.
He meant it. Even though he'd just joined as an exchange player, he remembered the sting of that pre-winter scrimmage they'd lost. He hadn't played, but he saw how the team fell apart.
And then he saw how Celeste held them together.
She wasn't just the team manager—she was the team's soul. The reason they were undefeated, the reason everyone believed they could win. She was the glue, the fire, and the secret weapon.
He could still remember her clapping her hands after the loss and saying, "Cheer up! We've still got the budget. Year's not over. Dinner's on me. New year, new win!"
They had laughed. She had booked the city's best restaurant. Handed out red envelopes. Sang a folk song in her local dialect that made everyone howl with laughter.
That was the night the team became a family. That was the night Nolan realized—this girl wasn't ordinary.
Back at the café, she laughed. "So you do remember that dinner. That was just me trying to make sure no one broke down."
He smiled. "It worked."
Her eyes narrowed playfully. "You're kinda mysterious, though. What's your story, Nolan B?"
He sipped his coffee and answered with a lopsided grin. "Ancestors were officials. Then merchants. Then sent overseas to build businesses. My grandfather studied in Japan after the war. My dad expanded into Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore... now I'm here to patch up my Chinese and math."
Her eyes widened. "That's... wow. So, Canadian-born?"
"Yup. Raised over there. But I've got history here."
She grinned. "You and Jett really are a match. One doesn't do exams, the other skips homework."
"Oh, and your moms were best friends?"
"More like soul sisters."
A waiter came by to check in. Nolan glanced at her. "More dessert?"
Celeste pretended to hesitate. "Only if we share."
So they ordered everything. One of each. She took a bite from each plate like she was tasting sunlight.
And for the first time in a long time, Nolan felt warm again.
Part 2: Sweetness, Stories, and Something More
The sun had shifted slightly, casting golden halos on their table.Celeste put down her cup, the last sip of mocha still lingering on her lips.
Nolan raised his eyes. "Refill?"She shook her head, smiling lazily like a cat that had just woken from a dream. "No. I'm good."
She was glowing in the light—lips curved just enough, her soft curls catching the sun. He caught himself staring again. It was getting harder not to.
"I know we're on the same team," he said finally, voice quieter, "but I didn't get the chance to say this earlier… It's really an honor to be working with you."
He meant it. Back then—before winter break—they'd lost a game to the provincial team. It was supposed to be just a friendly scrimmage, but still, the defeat hit hard. He wasn't even put in that match, being new. But he remembered how Celeste had stood up, smiled through the tension, and rallied the team like she owned the sky.
"You weren't just managing gear or schedules," he added. "You held the team together."
She blinked, a little surprised. "You remember that?"
He nodded.
She laughed softly, brushing her fingers over the rim of her cup. "That night? Yeah, I bribed them with food. That's how I get things done."
"But you made them laugh when no one else could," he said.
She rolled her eyes playfully. "That's just part of the job description."
Then, tilting her head, she looked at him. "You're a 'Bai,' right? That's kind of a rare surname."
He gave a small shrug. "My family's from the south. Generations ago, they were stationed in Nanyang. Then went into business—Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore. My grandfather studied in Japan before the war. My parents moved to Canada. I was born there."
Celeste's eyes widened. "Whoa. That's… intense. So why come all the way back here for school?"
He smiled sheepishly. "To catch up. My Mandarin and math are… not great."
She laughed. "Wow, so honest. You and Jett must get along great. Neither of you does homework."
"His dad and mine were on the same basketball team, once."
"His mom and my mom were college roommates!" she grinned.
Just then, the server came by. Nolan glanced at her. "Dessert?"
She paused, then nodded. "Only if we share."
He didn't even flinch. "Whatever you want."
So she ordered… everything.
He watched with a faint smile as she tried each dessert like a kid at a birthday party—mochi, tarts, cream puffs, lychee jelly. She made even cake look dramatic.
"I like this," she said, licking whipped cream off her spoon. "Not just the food. Just… this."
"Yeah," he said, softly. "Me too."
They talked more—about the team, the city, her dog, his childhood, Jett's ridiculous playlists. It was easy, like a long walk you didn't know you'd needed.
By the time they left the café, the sun had begun to dip. Outside, she bumped into a few old classmates.
One of them invited her to join a party that evening.She hesitated, then glanced sideways at Nolan. "Maybe next time."
They offered to include him, too. He stood there quietly—one hand in his pocket, the other holding his wallet, listening. The light hit his cheekbone just right. She thought, Damn. Even just paying the bill, he looks like a magazine cover.
As they walked down the street, he turned to her."Could you show me more of the city? Maybe grab dinner too?"
"Sure," she said easily. But when she saw the price tags on the menu he'd picked later, her eyebrows rose.
"This place is kind of… luxury," she whispered. "I brought my regular card today. Not the battle one."
He laughed. "It's on me. Thank you—for today."
"Hmph. Fine. Then dessert's on me," she said, crossing her arms. "I'm not the type to pretend I don't care."
His eyes softened. "You don't have to. You're someone I really want to know."
That shut her up for a second.
She looked away, biting her lip, then smiled slowly.