The morning light poured softly through the tall windows of the library, casting a warm glow over the rows of books. The air smelled of old pages, a mixture of dust and paper that Alina Hart had grown to love. Paris was busy outside, but inside the library, time felt slower. Here, there was peace.
Alina had found a quiet life in the heart of the city. She had come to Paris years ago, searching for a fresh start. It wasn't that she had run away from something, but more that she was looking for somewhere to heal. Somewhere to forget.
She worked part-time in the library, organizing shelves, helping the few visitors who came in. It wasn't much, but it gave her the time to think and, most importantly, to write. Writing had always been her escape — her way of dealing with the hurt that still lingered inside.
Alina was a novelist, though her stories had changed over time. Her first book had been full of hope, but now, her words were darker, filled with sorrow. It was as if the pain of her past had seeped into her writing, making it harder to believe in happy endings. Her heart had been broken once, and the scars from that betrayal never truly faded. It had been years since that man had left her, but the wounds he left behind still hurt — even in the quiet moments of peace.
Now, Alina built walls around her heart, guarding it from anything that might break her again. Love, she decided, was too dangerous. Too fragile.
But there was another side to Alina that no one could see. She was the kind of person whose kindness radiated, even in the smallest of gestures. She had an unshakable belief in the good of people, though it often left her vulnerable. Her heart was open to everyone, and she believed in the power of forgiveness. Her honesty shone through her every word, and it made her easy to love — or at least, easy to take advantage of.
Her friends and even strangers saw her as a sweet, innocent soul, someone who would never hurt anyone intentionally. She had a deep love for animals and often spent her spare time playing with stray dogs in the park. It was her little escape from the world. The animals trusted her, and she returned that trust with love. They were the only ones who seemed to understand her unspoken pain.
However, Alina's innocence sometimes made her the target of manipulation. People took advantage of her kindness, knowing that she would always give without expecting anything in return. Even with those who had wronged her, Alina could never bring herself to be anything but polite. She was the type of person who would smile even at her haters, offering forgiveness where others would have turned away.
But in the quiet of her own heart, Alina carried a sadness — one that no one could see. It was the burden of always giving, always being the one who cared too much. It left her feeling empty, as if there was no one left who would protect her heart.
The library was where she found comfort. There, she could forget about everything. She could lose herself in the stories of others and pretend that her own life was as easy as the books she read.
Today, however, her peaceful world was about to be disturbed.
Alina was shelving a stack of returned books when she heard the door open. She didn't look up at first; it was just another visitor, she thought. But then she heard the footsteps — confident, almost too loud for the soft atmosphere of the library. They were sharp, echoing through the silence, and they seemed out of place.
When she finally looked up, she saw him. A man she had noticed a few times before, walking past her apartment. Tall, with dark hair slightly messy, wearing a sharp gray suit and expensive shoes. He looked like someone who didn't belong in a library, someone who belonged to a world of business deals and fancy restaurants. The kind of man who never had to try, yet everyone seemed to notice.
Evander Ross.
Alina tried to turn her attention back to the books in her hands, but something about him made it hard to focus. It wasn't just the way he looked — there was a certain coldness about him, something that felt like he was looking at the world through a wall.
He walked straight to the fiction section, his eyes scanning the books with an almost business-like precision. Alina didn't know why, but she felt uneasy watching him. It wasn't like anything she had felt before. There was something about him that tugged at her — something unfamiliar.
Minutes passed, and she continued to shelve the books, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was still there, lingering at the edge of her thoughts.
Then, just as she reached for a book on the top shelf, she felt a presence beside her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she turned quickly. There he was again, standing so close that she could feel the air shift between them.
He was holding a book in his hand, but his eyes weren't on the pages. They were on her, studying her as if she were part of the bookshelf herself. Assessing.
"Excuse me. I was going to take that one." His voice was calm, but his words cut through the air with a quiet sharpness.
Alina blinked, caught off guard. "Oh, sorry. I didn't see you." Her voice was softer than she intended, as she stepped aside. It wasn't the first time someone had been rude to her, but the way he looked at her felt different. Cold. Like she was something he didn't want to be bothered with.
The man didn't even acknowledge her apology. He just reached for the book, his fingers brushing hers lightly as he took it from the shelf. There was no thank you, no smile, just a quick glance in her direction — a look that lingered for just a second too long.
"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Alina asked, trying to hide the awkwardness in her voice.
He paused, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "No, I think I'll be fine." And just like that, he turned, walking down the aisle as if she hadn't even been there.
Alina stood still, her heart pounding in her chest. She watched him walk deeper into the shelves, feeling a strange sense of relief mixed with something else. Disappointment, maybe? But why? Why did she care?
She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. It wasn't like her to get so caught up in someone else's behavior. He was just another person passing through her life. There was no reason for her to feel this way. She didn't need to waste any more energy on someone who clearly didn't care.
But as the library doors closed behind him, Alina couldn't ignore the feeling that something had shifted. It was subtle, but it was there. And for some reason, she couldn't help but wonder if that brief encounter was just the beginning of something she wasn't ready to face.