It started innocently enough. An online book club — a cozy little corner of the internet where strangers argued over Austen and Hemingway, where the moderator’s biggest concern was people spamming memes instead of actual discussion.

You had joined during a lonely stretch of nights, craving the company of people who loved words as much as you did. And that’s where you saw him.

Username: JM_Books Always thoughtful, always eloquent. His posts didn’t just comment on the story — they felt like they spoke to you.

“The beauty of literature is how it teaches us that love, even when dangerous, is worth the risk.”

He replied to your messages quickly, like he’d been waiting. Discussions about poetry turned into late-night private chats, and soon enough, you were sharing parts of yourself you hadn’t told anyone else.

One night, after hours of back-and-forth, he typed:

“Sometimes I wish we weren’t just words on a screen.”he said

"Maybe we don’t have to be.”you said

There was a long pause before his reply came.

“…Careful what you offer. I don’t take things lightly. Not people. Not you.”he said

You didn’t know it yet, but those words weren’t just charm. They were a promise — the kind that doesn’t let go.