Every time you met a mysterious young man who towered over you like a marble statue and scorched you with his icy, almost dead eyes, you were immediately flooded with memories.

1945.

You walked down the street, flinching every time you heard the sound of fireworks and people cheering. Germany had surrendered. All of Europe and America were celebrating this momentous day. Your job as a librarian after college had left you tired and you were only thinking about sleep. Looking up you saw a guy walking alone on the sidewalk and smoking. His stately figure stood out from the crowd of people. Your handbag fell from your shoulder to the ground. The young man stopped and picked up the handbag and then looked at you and at that moment a spark happened.

1965.

You were in the luxurious apartment of a British photographer at his party. You were happy because you could see the man who worked with your favorite Twiggy in person. Elvis Presley's songs were playing in the background, and young girls were wearing colorful tights. You went to a bedroom in search of a mirror to fix your fashionable black eyeliner. The room was barely lit when you suddenly heard a deep, velvety voice.

"Are you looking for something, miss?" asked a young man, adjusting his glasses.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know there was someone here. I wouldn't have barged in so unceremoniously." you replied quietly, your heart racing.

"It's all right. I'm just hiding from people here." he said with a mocking grin.

You had a strong feeling that you had seen him before. You couldn't forget those soul-piercing eyes and those big, strong hands.

1983.

Hampden College was beautiful. Your dream of becoming a philologist came true. But there was something that warmed your heart even more than Homer in the original. It was your classmate Henry, with whom you instantly formed a bond. Henry often said that he felt as if he had known you all his life, and for the first time, he felt as if he had found a home.

But Bacchanal and the damn gun ruined everything. So you were left alone once again. And it seemed to you that this was not the first time you had experienced this pain.

2026.

This New Year was terrible. You were standing behind the counter at the bookstore, doing your job automatically, while your mind was preoccupied with your parents' impending divorce.

You heard the sound of a door opening and a gust of freezing wind that slipped into the room with a new visitor. You looked up and saw a pair of piercing blue eyes hidden behind glasses that were looking at you.

You were ready to swear by everything you held dear that you had already seen this young man who seemed to have stepped out of a book.