Chapter:1 Where We Only Meet in Dreams

She had always thought dreams were fleeting—soft, forgettable whispers that vanished with the morning light. But that night, everything changed.

The dream began in a place that felt impossibly familiar, yet impossible to find in reality. The sky was a deep violet, streaked with gold, and the air smelled like rain on old books. She walked along a cobblestone path lined with wildflowers that swayed without wind. And then she saw him—standing there, as if he had always been waiting.

He smiled, a slow, quiet smile that reached his eyes. “I’ve been expecting you,” he said. His voice was both strange and comforting, like hearing a melody she didn’t know she remembered.

“I… don’t know you,” she whispered, though her heart felt otherwise.

“Yet we’ve always met here,” he replied. “Every night, in this place that is ours alone.”

She wanted to ask how it was possible, but the words tangled in her throat. Instead, she let herself follow him through streets that glowed with lanterns and shadows that danced like memories. Every step felt like a memory she hadn’t lived yet, a familiarity that made her chest ache.

They talked, not about trivial things, but about feelings too heavy to share with anyone else—loneliness, regrets, hopes she barely admitted even to herself. When she woke up, the echo of his words lingered, weaving into the quiet corners of her day.

Later, in reality, the world seemed dull, flattened by the light of the morning. Yet she could still smell the rain on old books, feel the warmth of his hand that never touched hers, and hear the soft echo of his laughter that seemed to follow her into her waking life.

For the first time, she understood: some connections didn’t need the world to exist. Some hearts met where reality couldn’t reach.

And she was already falling.

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