Yuna
Yuna
1
„Italy accident”
Yuna loved Italy for its unpredictability—the way every street smelled like coffee and sunlight, the way narrow alleys invited her to get lost just a little. Traveling was her way of breathing, of collecting small moments that made her feel alive, like mornings spent in cafés with cups too big for her hands and the world just beginning to wake.
She hadn’t expected anything unusual that day, just another stroll through the market streets, camera in her bag, curiosity guiding her steps. But then she bumped into him. Tall, broad, unmistakably out of place, yet somehow grounding in the chaos around them. She stumbled back, and he caught her without a word, steadying her with a calm that contrasted sharply with her racing heartbeat. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world paused. It was brief, fleeting, but unforgettable.
Yuna tried to convince herself it was nothing, a passing encounter destined to vanish into memory. Yet, Italy has a way of lingering in moments you least expect. She noticed tall figures, quiet presences, shadows in cafés, and found herself wondering if he was somewhere nearby, part of the city she was still learning to navigate.
That evening, she wandered into a narrow alley away from the crowds. The sun had softened to gold, and the street was nearly empty. And there he was—standing in the quiet, just as out of place as she felt. No words, no introduction, only recognition. The accidental collision, the brief pause in a busy street—they had followed her here, carried in memory, shaping this moment like something inevitable.
Yuna stopped. He stopped. The alley didn’t rush them, didn’t demand anything. And in that suspended silence, she realized that maybe some meetings were meant to happen twice—because the first one was never really finished. (You had to be a boy for Yuna, sorry girls😭😭😭)
Trip
