The sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, casting golden streaks on the wooden floor. The library smelled like old paper and quiet dreams. Ishaan sat cross-legged between the shelves, flipping through a book he had no intention of borrowing. It was just an excuse to sit there, hidden. His mother always said he spent too much time in books and not enough in the real world. 

But wasn’t this world better? Quieter? Less complicated?

Somewhere in the next alley, a book thudded to the floor. Ishaan glanced up from his book. People dropped books all the time. But then he heard a muffled groan of frustration.

He turned his head just enough to see a girl standing by the classics section, staring at a fallen book like it had personally offended her. Her messy ponytail was slipping loose, and her thick-rimmed glasses perched on her small, round nose made her look like a plush toy. She pushed her glasses back up on her nose with a frown.

Ishaan watched as she picked up the book, only to drop three more in the process.

She let out a dramatic sigh. “Great. Just great.”

Ishaan almost laughed. 

Almost. 

Instead, he got up, walked over, and crouched beside her. “Need help?”

She looked at him, surprised, as if she hadn’t realized she had an audience. Then she sighed again. “Please.”

He picked up a copy of Anna Karenina and handed it to her. “Looks like the books are fighting back.”

“Clearly,” she muttered. She took the book from  him and stuffed it back onto the shelf. “I was just trying to reach Pride and Prejudice, but apparently, the universe doesn’t think I should read about Mr. Darcy today.”

Ishaan smirked and reached for the book. He was taller, so it took him no effort. He handed it to her with a slight flourish. “Your quest is complete, mi-lady.”

She grinned. “Chivalry isn’t dead, after all.”

He shrugged. “Just selectively applied.”

She studied him for a second, as if deciding something. Then she tilted her head. “You’re Ishaan, right? You’re in my English class.”

Ishaan blinked. “I am?”

She rolled her eyes. “Wow. I sit two rows behind you, but sure, pretend I don’t exist.”

He flushed a tad. “It’s not that. I just—”

“Live in your own world?” she finished for him, smiling. “I figured.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “And you are…?”

“Rhea.” She held up her book. “The girl who fights with literature.”

Ishaan chuckled. “Nice to meet you, Rhea.”

She looked into his dreamy eyes. “You like books, right?”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’re in a library.”

She laughed. “Touché. So tell me, what’s the book you were checking out today?”

He hesitated, then smiled. “Maybe I’ll tell you next time.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Next time, huh?”

Ishaan didn’t know it yet, but next time would turn into many times. And it had all started with a falling book and exchanged smiles.