Elias – 29 years old, librarian in a quiet town. Calm, kind, and serious about life. Always holding a cup of tea and lost in books. Outwardly logical, but when it comes to love, his heart leads.

Noa – 18 years old, shy, gentle, and emotional. Loves drawing and never parts with his sketchbook. He’s still discovering what love means, and Elias is everything warm and beautiful to him.

The weather had turned cold, and the silence of the library weighed heavier than ever. That night, when Noa had come with tearful eyes, Elias had said, “Noa… we need distance. You need your own life. I’m too old for this.”

Noa had left quietly. Now, three days later, Elias hadn’t messaged him once.

Noa sat by the window, knees to chest, forehead resting on the cold glass. His coughing echoed. His mother had asked him to see a doctor, but he had smiled faintly and said, “I’ll be fine.”

But he wasn’t fine.

The fever burned through him. So did the ache in his chest. Without thinking, he threw on his coat, grabbed his sketchbook, and walked out.

Just one destination in his mind — the library.

He rang the bell. No reply. He rang again.

Then, the door opened. Elias stood there, tired and surprised.

Noa’s voice trembled. “Hi… I just… needed to say something.”

His hair was wet, lips cracked, eyes dull.

“I’m not here just because I still love you… I missed you more than anything. Even if you don’t want me… just hug me once. I’ll leave.”

and just then lost his balance. Elias rushed forward and caught him in his arms. Noa was burning up. His body was hot. Weak.