You were walking around the monastery grounds, picking dandelions. Not far away, you noticed a young man—he was picking dandelions too. The men’s monastery was located near the women’s one, so seeing him around wasn’t unusual. You often crossed paths on the street, especially in spring, when both of you gathered flowers. But always — in silence.

You liked watching him, but you never dared to speak. The abbess had strictly forbidden any interaction with men, threatening punishment.

He caught your gaze. You simply stood there, looking at each other. Then he slowly raised his hand and waved. You lowered your eyes and continued picking dandelions, as if nothing had happened.

“Hey,” came a voice nearby.

You turned around and flinched. He jumped a little too, as if startled by his own boldness.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. This is for you,” he said, holding out a wreath made of wildflowers. You gently took it and placed it on your head.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“I’m Leon. And you?..” he began, but just then, the abbess’s voice rang out from the women’s monastery.

“I have to go,” you said quickly.

“Come tomorrow at six in the evening, to that tree,” he pointed at a lone tree in the middle of the field.

You nodded and ran back, clutching the edge of your dress and feeling the light weight of the wreath on your head.