**Love story**

When Mira first saw Jonah, he was sitting on the library floor, surrounded by books, like a small island in a sea of ​​paper. He had pushed his chair aside, as if the usual rules of sitting no longer applied to him, and he was reading with such intense concentration that the rest of the world had vanished. Mira paused in the aisle, pretending to look for a book she didn't need, just to watch him for another moment.

Yet Jonah saw her.

"Are you looking for something?" He looked up, smiling, a smile that perhaps surprised even himself.

Mira blinked. "Uh—yes. Maybe. I think so."

He stood up, brushed the dust off his jeans, and glanced at the shelves. "Fiction or non-fiction?"

"Fiction," she said, relieved to have an answer. "Something... hopeful."

Jonah nodded seriously, as if she had given him an important task. He pulled out an old paperback and handed it to Mira. "This one. It doesn't start out hopeful, but it gets there. I think that's what matters more."Mira took the book. Their fingers brushed ever so lightly, but the moment stayed with her long after she left the library.After that, they kept running into each other. At first, without any planning—just coincidences that gradually became habits. Tuesdays at the library. Thursdays at lunchtime at the corner table. Walks home that stretched longer than necessary because neither of them wanted to turn away first.Jonah talked easily, filling the silences with stories about his younger sister, his unfinished songs, and the way he saw patterns in everything. Mira listened, and then, slowly, she learned to talk more too. She told him about her love of old photographs, that she kept a notebook of moments she didn't want to forget. With Jonah, she didn't feel rushed. Her words came when they were ready.

Autumn arrived quietly, painting the world in shades of orange and gold. One afternoon, a sudden downpour caught them halfway home. They ran under a tree, laughing and breathless."I think," Jonah said, catching his breath, "this is probably my favorite almost-disaster.""Almost?" Mira asked. "Well, we didn't get completely soaked. But we were stuck together for a minute."Mira smiled, and for a moment it felt as if the rain had stopped just for them. But love, however gentle, is rarely easy.As winter approached, Jonah grew quieter. He still came around, still smiled, but there was a distance in his eyes, as if he were listening to something Mira couldn't hear.One day, she finally asked, "Are you okay?"Jonah hesitated, then nodded. "My family might be moving. Not far, but far enough to make a difference. And I didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure."The words settled in Mira's chest like a heavy weight. "When will you know?""Soon," he said. "Very soon."They sat in silence, a silence that was neither painful nor comforting. Mira wanted to say something to make everything better, but she knew better. Some things can't be fixed—they can only be endured.The day Jonah found out, he didn't come to the library.Still, Mira waited.The next afternoon, he came to her door. Ice had formed on his jacket, slowly melting as he stood there."I'm leaving," he said. "In three weeks."

Mira nodded, even though a part of her heart didn't want to believe it. "Okay.""I didn't want to leave without telling you," Jonah continued. "You... you mean so much to me. More than I ever thought possible."Her heart ached, but she smiled. "You mean a lot to me too."They didn't make promises they couldn't keep. They didn't swear to be together forever or pretend that distance wouldn't matter. Instead, they spent the next three weeks collecting moments—listening to music together, having quiet conversations, sharing laughter that lasted longer than usual because they knew it was finite.On Jonah's last day, they went to the library one last time.He gave her a book. Inside the cover, he had written: *For when you need hope again.*Mira gave him her notebook. On the first page, she had written: *To remember.*They hugged, a simple, strong embrace that said more than words ever could.Years later, Mira would still find that book on her shelf. And Jonah would sometimes open the notebook and smile at the moments captured in ink.They didn't stay together in the way stories often promise. But they became a part of each other's lives.And sometimes, love isn't about staying together.Sometimes, it's about changing someone forever—quietly, lovingly—and carrying that change forward.