The Boy Who Waited Ten Years

Another rainy day.

Evelyn Hart had just returned from the break room with a cup of hot water when she paused beside the office window, taking advantage of a rare quiet moment to look outside.

Raindrops clung to the glass. Thin streams of water slid down the pane, blurring the reflection of a pretty face framed by dark hair and soft red lips.

Beyond the window, the sky was a hazy, rain-soaked gray. The surrounding business district was already bright with office lights despite the early hour. Trees swayed violently in the wind below, while several moving trucks stood outside the building. Workers in yellow raincoats were carrying boxes through the downpour.

A cold draft slipped through the narrow gap in the window, whistling faintly against her face.

Evelyn shivered and pushed the window shut with her slender fingers, cutting off the damp wind and its miserable little howl.

Her gentle features settled into a faintly troubled expression. She let out a quiet sigh.

Rain. Again.

She really did hate rainy days.

Evelyn lowered her gaze and took a sip of the warm brown-sugar drink she had made for herself. Then she turned away from the window and returned to her desk.

Her phone lit up.

A message from her best friend, Chloe Parker, appeared on the screen.

Chloe: I did your reading, Evie! The cards are in!

There wasn't much work to do at the moment. Around her, everyone seemed to be enjoying the unofficial office sport of looking busy while doing absolutely nothing.

Evelyn settled into her chair and replied.

Evelyn: Well? What did they say?

Chloe: Your romantic fortune is looking GOOD, my girl!

Evelyn stared at the message.

Evelyn: …

This whole thing had started the previous evening.

On her way home from work, Evelyn had noticed a fortune-teller's stall along her usual route. She wasn't particularly superstitious, nor was she the sort of person who went looking for predictions about her future.

Still, things had been going badly lately. She had slowed down to take a second look.

The fortune-teller had been an elderly woman with wispy white hair. No one had stopped at her stall, and when she noticed Evelyn looking, she beckoned her over with a friendly smile.

"Come here, sweetheart. Would you like me to read your fortune?"

The woman looked rather lonely sitting there all by herself.

Evelyn had always had a weakness for kind-looking elderly people. Before she knew it, she had walked over and held out her hand.

"Could you take a look? Next year is my zodiac year. Is there anything I should be careful about?"

The fortune-teller studied her palm with impressive solemnity. Her lips moved as though she were reciting some ancient incantation. Her brows furrowed, relaxed, and then lifted into a smile at precisely the right moments.

At last, she released a long breath.

"Well, well. Things are looking good."

"Oh?" Evelyn's eyes brightened. "Does that mean I'm going to get rich?"

"Your destined man is coming."

Evelyn pressed her lips together.

"Um, ma'am? I wasn't actually asking about my love life."

The fortune-teller waved away the objection with great generosity.

"That was just a little extra."

"Oh." Evelyn hesitated, then asked, "So what will my destined man be like?"

The old woman leaned forward and delivered her answer with deliberate emphasis.

"A handsome man. With blue hair."

Evelyn blinked.

"…"

The woman had paused twice in that short sentence, as though she were determined to make sure Evelyn remembered the two most important details: blue hair and handsome.

She certainly had a flair for dramatic delivery.

But the prediction was absurd.

Evelyn had never heard of anyone being able to identify the exact hair color of a person's future soulmate.

On the walk home, she kept imagining the man the fortune-teller had described.

Blue hair. Handsome.

He would probably be the sort of person who turned heads wherever he went—brilliant, rebellious, and impossible to tame.

Someone who belonged to an entirely different world from hers.

He couldn't possibly be her destined man.

And yet the fortune-teller had sounded so precise, so utterly convinced, that after showering that evening, Evelyn had messaged Chloe anyway.

Evelyn: Can you check whether I have any romantic prospects lately? Just out of curiosity.

Chloe was a tarot enthusiast, and, annoyingly, she was pretty good at it. She regularly posted readings on TikTok and had built up a substantial following. Her videos attracted plenty of enthusiastic comments, and people often claimed that her predictions were eerily accurate.

When Chloe saw Evelyn's message, she was even more excited than Evelyn was.

Chloe: Oh my God. YOU? Asking about your love life? Has our untouchable little fairy finally decided she wants a taste of mortal romance?

A second message followed almost immediately.

Chloe: I'm fully booked tonight, though. All relationship readings, and most of them are regular clients. I can't cancel on them. I'll do yours tomorrow morning, sweetheart.

Evelyn hadn't minded waiting. She had only asked on a whim.

Now, looking at Chloe's messages, she found herself growing a little curious.

Evelyn: What kind of person are we talking about?

Chloe: A good match. Like the sun. Like a peacock.

Evelyn took another sip of her drink.

Evelyn: A peacock?

A moment later, Chloe sent her a picture.

A blue peacock stood with its magnificent tail fanned out behind it, every feather shimmering like a jewel. It looked impossibly proud of itself, putting on a spectacular display for the world.

Chloe: This person might be a little arrogant. Probably not the easiest guy to deal with. But the cards are clear—he's a good match for you.

Evelyn stared at the picture.

Evelyn: …

A proud peacock.

A handsome man with blue hair.

Apparently, the universe had decided to be very specific about her romantic future.

Evelyn finished her conversation with Chloe and opened her short-video account.

She had accounts on several of the major platforms, all under the same handle: Echo After Dark. The platforms varied in popularity, so her follower counts differed from one to another, ranging from a few hundred thousand to several million.

One account, which she had started running back in college, had grown particularly large. The platform had taken off early and remained popular, giving her videos a steady stream of traffic.

The previous day, she had posted a video of herself singing in a regional dialect. As soon as she logged in, she found a flood of comments and tags waiting for her.

She scrolled through them, replying to a few that caught her attention.

"Evelyn!"

Olivia Brooks appeared from outside and tugged at her arm, practically vibrating with excitement. She had the expression of someone carrying a piece of gossip too delicious to keep to herself.

"Guess what? A new company just moved into the office across the corridor!"

"Didn't the last company just move out?" Evelyn asked, still typing. Then she remembered the moving trucks she had seen through the window. "Oh. So that's who was moving in downstairs."

"You saw them too?" Olivia leaned closer. "Sophie and I just came back from outside. We heard they're a game studio, and we saw a gorgeous guy!"

Evelyn continued replying to comments, obligingly playing along.

"Wow. Really?"

"Really!" Olivia clasped her hands beneath her chin, her eyes practically turning into hearts. "I swear he must be at least six foot two. Absolutely unreal."

Evelyn looked up at her in surprise.

"How did you get such an exact measurement? Did you pull out a tape measure?"

"I used to have a crush on a guy who was six-two!"

"Then you'd better move fast." Evelyn smiled, her eyes curving into crescents. "Didn't you promise you'd find yourself a boyfriend before the end of the year?"

Olivia's expression shifted.

"There's just one tiny problem."

"What is it?"

"Well, Sophie and I were joking earlier. We said we should walk into him with a cup of coffee, spill it all over him, and then use the apology as an excuse to ask for his number."

Evelyn paused.

"And?"

"I think he heard us."

"…"

Olivia stared into the distance for a moment, apparently weighing her options. Then she lifted her chin with sudden determination.

"Whatever. Maybe I'll dye my hair blue tonight!"

Evelyn turned to look at her.

"…What?"

Blue-haired handsome man?

After Olivia had finished swooning over the new arrival, Evelyn opened a browser and typed a question into the search bar.

Is blue the most fashionable hair color this year?

The results appeared almost instantly.

Every single one informed her that blue had been last year's trend.

Was retro fashion cycling back on a monthly schedule now?

Her phone vibrated again.

Chloe: Sweetheart, I just landed a huge client. Coffee's on me! I'm sending you a cup. I'll be there soon, so go pick it up when it arrives. I only gave them the office building's address.

The delivery call came almost as soon as Evelyn finished reading the message.

She took her phone and headed outside.

The corridor was wide, and people carrying boxes of every size were moving in both directions. She glanced around as she walked, hoping to catch sight of the handsome newcomer.

No such luck.

The delivery driver was waiting in the lobby on the first floor. Evelyn collected her coffee, thanked him, and took the elevator back up.

When she stepped out, she noticed a trash can beside the corridor and casually lifted the lid of her cup to throw it away. The coffee had been filled nearly to the brim, and she didn't want it sloshing over the edge, so she took a quick sip before turning back to her phone.

She began typing a reply to Chloe.

Evelyn: Got it! I've already started dri—

She never finished the message.

Her lowered head and the hand holding her coffee collided with something—or, more accurately, someone—that felt both solid and strangely soft.

The cup lurched in her grip. Its weight suddenly seemed to lighten as the coffee sloshed over the rim.

Heat touched her hand. Liquid ran between her fingers and down the back of her skin.

The rich smell of coffee spread through the corridor.

"Ah—"

Evelyn s*ck*d in a breath, hurriedly pulled a tissue from her coat pocket, and wiped her hand. She transferred the cup to her other hand.

At almost the same moment, a quiet, cold chuckle sounded above her.

"Well. You actually went through with it."

Evelyn barely registered the words.

"I'm so sorry!"

She stepped back half a pace, looking down at the person she'd bumped into.

He was wearing a sharply tailored white coat. A large coffee stain had spread across the fabric near his waist, dark and ugly against the pale material.

It looked like the sort of muddy splash that ruined your clothes on a rainy day.

As someone who hated rainy days, Evelyn could sympathize with the misery of that particular sight.

Oh, no.

Her scalp prickled.

She slowly lifted her head, bracing herself for the furious expression she was sure to find. Her fingers tightened around the coffee cup.

Her gaze traveled upward.

Beneath the white coat, he wore a beige shirt left casually open over a plain white T-shirt. The neckline was loose enough to reveal the faint outline of his collarbones.

He was tall. Very tall.

Evelyn stood five foot five and a half, and even looking straight ahead, her eyes barely reached his long, elegant neck. She caught the subtle movement of his Adam's apple as he swallowed.

For reasons she couldn't quite explain, Evelyn swallowed too.

Then she tilted her head back and looked at his face.

At that precise moment, the clock mounted on the gray corridor wall clicked forward.

Its antique bronze frame was decorated with a little white bird that bobbed its head and sang a tinny, reverberating line of "Say you love me."

The clock chimed the hour.

Ten o'clock in the morning.

Thursday, November 11, 2021.

Pouring rain.

And then Evelyn nearly dropped her coffee.

Blue.

Hair.

Blue hair!

The fortune-teller's words echoed through her mind.

Your destined man is coming.

A handsome man. With blue hair.

…

The impact was almost too much to process.

For a moment, Evelyn could only stare.

The corridor around her was full of people hurrying past, but their movement seemed to fade into the background. All she could see was the man standing directly in front of her.

His blue hair caught the overhead lights like sunlight striking the surface of the ocean. A few loose strands fell over his forehead, partially shadowing his eyes.

He looked young, with a trace of boyishness about him, but there was nothing soft about the sharp lines of his face.

Pale skin. A defined jaw. A straight nose. Full, dark brows. Deep-set eyes framed by long, distinct lashes. His lips were thin, and his features had the kind of precise, almost unfair symmetry that made a person look as though he belonged on a billboard rather than in an ordinary office corridor.

His eyes were black and deep, like dark pools hidden in the mountains. One glance was enough to make a person forget what they had meant to say.

His narrow chin was tilted slightly upward. His eyelids were half lowered, lending him an air of careless superiority.

He stood tall and straight, carrying himself with the effortless confidence of someone who had never felt the need to make himself smaller for anyone.

A single black earring gleamed in one ear.

It gave him a rebellious, almost dangerous edge.

With that face, that posture, and that bright blue hair, he looked like the kind of man who spent his nights in glamorous bars and his mornings forgetting the names of the women he'd met there.

A charming rogue.

A heartbreaker.

The sort who moved from one girlfriend to the next as easily as he changed his clothes, leaving a trail of broken hearts behind him without ever giving his own away.

In other words, a walking red flag—

"Had enough?"

His voice cut straight through her thoughts.

Evelyn jolted.

Oh, God.

Even his voice was unfairly attractive—low, rich, and edged with an unmistakable note of impatience.

He let out a quiet, derisive laugh.

"Is this how people flirt these days? By staring until the other person gets uncomfortable?"

Evelyn blinked at him.

"…What?"

He gave her a slow, meaningful once-over.

"Couldn't you at least pretend to be subtle?"

Evelyn went silent.

His expression practically said, Yes, I'm aware I'm ridiculously good-looking, but could you stop looking at me like you've never seen a man before?

Flirting?

Subtle?

What on earth was he talking about?

Then, like a flash of lightning, Olivia's earlier conversation came back to her.

We should walk into him with a cup of coffee, spill it all over him, and then use the apology as an excuse to ask for his number.

I think he heard us.

Maybe I'll dye my hair blue tonight!

Evelyn looked at his vivid blue hair.

Then she remembered what he had said when they'd collided.

You actually went through with it.

Oh.

Oh, no.

So this was the guy Olivia and Sophie had been talking about.

And he'd apparently decided that Evelyn was part of their plan.

"…"

Her gaze drifted down to the coffee stain spreading across his pristine white coat.

Evelyn bit her lip.

Should she even bother apologizing again?

If an apology was only going to convince him that she was trying to flirt, perhaps there was no point in giving him another reason to misunderstand her.

She took a breath.

Fine. If he wanted to play that game, she would simply get ahead of him.

Evelyn lifted her eyes to his face, doing her best to look gracious but just a little displeased. Her voice remained gentle, though there was a surprising firmness beneath it.

"You walked into me. Aren't you going to apologize?"

Apparently, the man hadn't expected that response.

After all, Evelyn Hart thought she looked like a fairly harmless person. She had the sort of face that suggested she wouldn't have the nerve to do something shameless.

Which was probably why the blue-haired stranger frowned at her, looking genuinely confused.

For several seconds, he seemed unable to process what she'd just said.

Then, as though the meaning had finally sunk in, he turned his head and laughed.

Not because he found it funny.

If Evelyn wasn't mistaken, he was laughing because he was furious.

She pressed her lips together, determined to find some way to end this mortifying encounter.

“If you don't want to apologize, then—”

“I should apologize?”

He sounded as though she'd just announced that the earth was flat. Disbelief mingled with a note of mockery in his voice.

“What is this? Some new flirting technique?”

Evelyn went silent.

She hadn't even apologized a second time, and somehow she'd still managed to be accused of flirting.

“I was looking down and didn't see you,” she explained, trying to appeal to reason. She spread her arms to indicate the wide corridor around them. “But you didn't see me either, did you? There's plenty of room here. Did you really have to walk straight into me?”

“Oh, is that what happened?”

His tone was infuriatingly casual.

“I was looking at my phone. How am I supposed to know whether your story is true?”

“Adrian, that's not what happened—”

A second male voice interrupted.

Until that moment, Evelyn hadn't even noticed the young man standing beside Adrian. He had pleasant features and a clean-cut appearance, but he was a little shorter than Adrian and nowhere near as striking. Somehow, he'd blended into the background.

The young man had clearly intended to say something along the lines of, Weren't you the one who deliberately walked int