The Day We Met

He was running through the park by the hospital. It was a fine morning - clear skies, a crisp breeze, and the sun slanting through the trees. He ran this route often; it was part of his morning routine. Headphones thumped in his ears, his focus split between the music and the steady rhythm of his breath. The path was quiet, nearly empty at this hour.

Which is why he didn’t see her until it was too late.

Something collided with him hard, and the next thing he knew he was on the ground, palms stinging, headphones clattering across the pavement. He scrambled for them first, looping them back around his neck before turning toward the thing he’d crashed into.

It wasn’t a something at all. It was a someone.

A girl, about his age. Blonde hair spilled down her back, strands catching the morning light. Hazel eyes blinked wide and startled, full of apology. She had her own headphones hanging loose at her neck, the cord swinging.

“Oh my gosh!” she blurted. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

He nodded automatically, then hesitated and shook his head.

“I should be asking you that. I wasn’t paying attention either. Did you hurt yourself?”

She glanced down, showing her palms. They were a little scraped, red against her skin.

“Just a scratch. Nothing serious.”

He winced.

“I’m sorry.”

Her lips curved into a small, beautiful smile.

“Don’t be. It was my fault.”

He frowned.

“No, it was mine. At the very least, let me do something for you.”

She shook her head quickly.

“No, really - it’s fine. Don’t worry.”

But he pressed, soft and insistent.

“Please. It’ll help me feel less guilty. Anything at all?”

She tilted her head, thinking. Then her eyes lit with sudden mischief.

“Well… you could give me your number.”

He blinked.

“…Pardon?”

She laughed gently.

“Your number. That would help.”

Still perplexed, he dug his phone from his pocket.

“Okay, but… why?”

She held up her own phone, the faintest grin tugging her lips.

“Because I get bored in the hospital. And lonely. I need someone to talk to.”

He paused, studying her more closely.

“You’re… a patient?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. Been here a while.”

He grimaced, sympathy flickering across his face.

“That sounds rough. Don’t you have anyone else to talk to? Friends? Family?”

Her smile dimmed a little, but she didn’t answer. He didn’t push. Instead, they swapped phones, typing in numbers before handing them back.

“Thanks,” she said softly, smiling again. “I’ll message you later.”

He smiled back, then pushed himself to his feet and offered her his hand. She slipped her smaller one into his, and he pulled her up gently.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” she said.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “See you.”

She gave him a quick wave and started down the path, hair fluttering in the breeze. He lingered a moment, watching her go. She looked fragile, almost breakable. And yet there was something vibrant in her, something alive.

When he turned back to his run, his mind whispered words he didn’t fully understand, but couldn’t shake:

This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.