The day was cloudy — not rainy, not sunny, just in-between, like everything else about them.
They ended up at the same book launch in a quiet, cozy bookstore. For the first time, their worlds didn't just overlap — they touched.
Anaya reached for a poetry book — and so did he. Fingers brushed, breaths caught. For a split second, the world slowed down.
Their eyes met.
Her heart whispered, "Say something."
His soul echoed, "Don't walk away this time."
But all she managed was a soft, "Sorry."
He smiled — the kind of smile that holds back a thousand things — and said, "It's a good book."
She nodded, held the book to her chest, and walked away.
He watched her leave, hands in pockets, holding everything he didn't say.