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Bab 3

"...aku cuma selesain satu project."

"Yang seminggu stuck. Yang almost bikin kamu give up." Hakan said seriously. "That's not 'cuma'. That's progress."

Bian looked down, fidgeting with straw es teh-nya.

"Kamu... kamu terlalu baik," Bian murmured.

"Aku cuma jujur kok." Hakan shrugged. "Kamu deserve credit untuk effort kamu."

Pesanan datang—mie ayam dengan aroma menggugah selera, bakso kenyal, kuah gurih.

They ate—Hakan dengan enthusiastic, Bian lebih pelan tapi clearly enjoying it.

"Enak kan?" Hakan asked, grinning.

"...enak."

"Told you! Aku gak pernah salah soal food recommendations."

Bian almost smiled.

Mid-meal, Hakan suddenly spoke:

"Bian... boleh aku tanya sesuatu?"

"...tergantung."

"Kamu... kamu merasa better sekarang? Maksudku, since malam itu. Di jembatan."

Bian stopped, chopsticks hovering.

"Aku gak bermaksud trigger atau apa," Hakan quickly added. "Aku cuma... aku peduli. Dan aku mau tau kamu oke."

Bian was quiet for a moment.

"...aku masih... struggling," dia akhirnya bilang, pelan. "Masalah-masalahnya masih ada. Uang, kerjaan, semuanya masih belum solved."

Hakan nodded, listening.

"Tapi..." Bian continued, surprising himself, "aku... aku gak merasa se-hopeless itu lagi. Entah kenapa."

"That's good," Hakan said softly. "That's really good, Bian."

"...mungkin karena kamu."

The words slipped out before Bian could stop them.

Hakan's eyes widened slightly.

"Maksudku," Bian quickly backtrack, "karena kamu... kamu peduli. Dan itu... itu help. Somehow."

Hakan's expression softened—something warm and gentle and... something else Bian couldn't name.

"I'm glad," Hakan said quietly. "I'm really glad aku bisa help. Even just a little."

They finished meal dalam comfortable silence.

Tapi ada something—some shift in the air between them.

Something new.

Something neither of them quite ready to name yet.

After lunch, Hakan offered: "Mau jalan-jalan lagi or kamu mau balik ke kos?"

"...aku gak ada rencana," Bian admitted.

"Perfect! Ada toko buku deket sini, lumayan lengkap. Mau mampir?"

"...oke."

They rode ke Toko Buku Aksara Dago—toko buku indie yang cozy, ada kafe kecil di dalamnya.

Mereka masuk—Hakan langsung ke section photography books, Bian ke section design & art.

Bian browsing—fingers trailing over book spines, occasionally pulling one out to skim.

Then—

His hand stopped.

One book.

"The Art of Storytelling: Writing & World-Building"