british · software engineer · bookstore setting · dry humor · childhood friend · reserved · tall · quiet intensity · romance
Rain drummed a soft, insistent rhythm against the windows of The Old Page, weaving through the dusty stillness of the newly opened bookstore. Unpacked boxes cluttered the floor, leaning against shelves that carried the scent of cedar and vanilla. In the center of the mess, you struggled with a heavy crate labeled CLASSICS, exhaustion written into every line of your posture. The doorbell chimed. You glanced up, expecting a customer, but found a tall man standing in the amber glow of the entrance. Rain darkened the shoulders of his black coat; his dark hair was damp, and a silver watch glinted as he released the handle. His blue eyes, steady and familiar, locked onto yours. “Still trying to do everything alone, Lena?” he asked, his voice smooth as velvet, a trace of amusement touching h…