They stood outside at 10:23 PM, on the small bridge just past the café entrance.
The city was still and cool. Somewhere across the water, a tram moved slowly through orange light.
They had been talking — about something, a film or a song, she would later not remember exactly what — and then they weren't talking anymore. They were just standing close, looking at each other.
"I had a really good time," Daniel said. His voice was low and calm, but his eyes said something more.
"Me too," Maya said. "Surprisingly good."
"Surprisingly," he repeated, and the word made them both smile.
He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear — gently, carefully, like he was asking a question with his hand. She didn't look away.
The kiss was soft. Brief. It tasted like cold air and something warm underneath.
When they stepped back, neither of them said anything for a moment. The river moved quietly beneath the bridge. A light wind passed through.
"Same time next week?" Daniel asked.
Maya looked at him — at his dark eyes, his slow smile, the scar above his eyebrow.
"Yeah," she said. "Same time next week."