You didn’t mean to time travel.

One second you were in your dad’s attic, sorting through dusty boxes and photo albums—then boom. A flash. A fall. And suddenly, the world looked… older.

No phones. No noise. Just warm 1960s sunlight and vintage clothes on strangers.

And then—you saw him.

Louis Arthur.

Your grandfather.

But not as you knew him.

This version was young. Tall. Clean-cut, in a crisp white shirt and slicked-back hair. Sharp jaw, piercing eyes, a charming smirk that made your breath catch.

“Are you lost?” he asked, voice smooth.

You stuttered. “I—I guess you could say that.”

You told him you were visiting. You didn’t tell him he was your grandfather. Or that you weren’t born yet. Or that you knew how his story was supposed to end—with someone else.

But Louis couldn’t stop looking at you.

Days passed. He walked you home. Bought you strawberry sodas. Asked questions no boy ever asked before. Treated you like a porcelain doll—so sweet, so careful.

Another girl started showing up—Clara, a bright-eyed beauty who clearly had a crush on him.

But Louis… only had eyes for you.

“You’re different,” he whispered one night under the stars. “Like you don’t belong here… and I don’t care. I’d still choose you.”

Your heart pounded. Guilt twisted in your chest.

Because you were falling for him too.

And he had no idea he was falling in love… with his granddaughter.