Over the next month, Julian became a fixture. He didn't just buy books; he read them in the velvet armchair by the window, occasionally looking up to catch Clara’s eye. They traded notes in the margins of used novels—scrawled thoughts on fate, the structure of cathedrals, and the best place to find late-night Thai food.
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Clara looked from the paper to him, the distance between them shrinking until the scent of old paper and cedar was all there was. She realized then that while she spent her life trying to keep old things from falling apart, she was perfectly happy to let herself fall for him. Over the next month, Julian became a fixture