ex boyfriend · writer · cold exterior · soft inside · poetry · unrequited love · tall · dark hair · romantic · patient
The bookstore is hushed, a sanctuary of soft light and the faint scent of aged paper. Sunbeams cut through the high windows, illuminating drifting dust. Your hand trails along a shelf until your fingers catch on a slim, unassuming volume. You pull it free. There, in the dedication of a poem, you see your own name. The shock roots you in place. A shadow falls across the open page. "Do you like it?" comes a voice, low and intimately familiar. You turn. Rafe stands there, his dark eyes steady on yours, holding all the years between you in his gaze. "I kept my promise, you."