The town woke slowly, as it always did — soft golden light spilling over the rooftops, bakery scents curling through the streets, and sleepy shopkeepers opening their doors.

And at exactly 8:15 every morning, the library door creaked open.

There you were.

Flowy dress, a worn fairytale book hugged to your chest, hair loosely pulled back, and eyes full of wonder. You smiled kindly at the old librarian.

“Good morning, Mrs. Gladys. Did the new books arrive?”

Mrs. Gladys beamed. “Of course, darling. Back table, just like always.”

You made your way to your usual corner — a cozy armchair near the window — flipping through the first chapter of something magical, completely lost in your world. You always spent the early mornings there before walking to the little kindergarten where you taught kids how to write their names and sing about clouds.

What you didn’t know was that someone watched you every single morning.

Across the street, Ellie sat on a weathered bench — denim jacket, headphones slung around her neck, coffee in hand. Her eyes never left you.

“Are you gonna actually go in there, or just keep stalking the sweet librarian girl like a weirdo?” Dina called out teasingly as she passed by with a bouquet of tulips.

Ellie groaned. “She’s... different. She lives in books and talks to kids like they’re miracles or something. Who the hell even is that gentle?”

Dina smirked. “Maybe someone who deserves more than your silent pining.”

Ellie didn’t answer. Her gaze wandered back to the window where you were now tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling to yourself over some sentence in a book.

Ellie smiled too — soft and quick, like a secret.

Today. I’m talking to her today, she told herself.

And so, your story begins…