The park was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves overhead and the occasional murmur of people passing by. Caspian had always enjoyed the stillness of this place, the peaceful solitude it offered in the midst of the city's relentless buzz. He was seated on a bench, the afternoon sun casting a soft glow on the pages of the book in his hand. He hadn't meant to stay here for long; his mind, usually filled with distractions, seemed to crave the calm.
But then, his eyes wandered, as they often did when his thoughts grew too heavy.
A young couple sat a few feet away, tucked under the shade of a nearby oak tree. Their heads were bent close together, not in hurried whispers but in a shared quietness, the kind that came with comfort, with familiarity. They were reading, flipping through pages with gentle hands, their quiet conversation punctuated only by the turning of paper. There was something about the way they held the books, about the way their fingers brushed every so often, that reminded him of something — or someone — he couldn't place right away.
For a moment, Caspian let himself watch them, his eyes softening as he noticed the small details. The way the girl laughed, softly, when the boy murmured something between pages. The way the boy's gaze lingered on her face before he returned to his book. It was such a simple, peaceful moment, yet it stirred something in him — a longing, perhaps. A feeling he didn't recognize immediately, but that felt almost… nostalgic.
He sighed, looking down at his book once more, but the words blurred before his eyes. The couple's presence, so natural, so easy in their shared space, had unlocked something in him — something he had almost forgotten existed.
He left the park, his feet moving on their own as he made his way back to the familiar streets of his college campus. The distance was small, but the weight of it grew heavier with every step he took. The gates loomed before him like an old friend, standing tall and unchanged despite the years that had passed. As he walked across the campus, memories began to surface, each one as vivid as the moment they had happened, as though they were still fresh in his mind.
He found himself at the library, the place he had once visited daily, a sanctuary of sorts. He paused at the entrance, his hand resting on the door before he pushed it open.
The scent of old books, of ink and paper, hit him like a wave. It was the same smell that had filled his lungs countless times before. The same smell that had carried the weight of his late-night study sessions, his quiet moments of solitude, and, most importantly, his time with her.
Isolde.
The thought of her stirred a quiet ache in his chest, a feeling he hadn't let himself experience in years. He hadn't meant to come here, but somehow, his feet had led him to the very place where it all began.
It was a Tuesday afternoon when they first met, the sun slanting through the large windows of the library, casting long shadows over the tables. Caspian had been lost in a book, his mind consumed by the final exams that loomed over him. His world had been filled with nothing but formulas and notes, the pressure of his grades always at the forefront of his thoughts. But then, the soft shuffle of footsteps had caught his attention.
He looked up.
Isolde was sitting across from him, her attention fixed on a book she was reading, her hair falling in loose waves around her face. She hadn't noticed him yet, but he had already noticed her — the way her lips curled into a smile as she read something, the way her eyes sparkled when she found something amusing in the pages. She was a stranger then, but to him, she had felt like someone he should have known.
Their conversation had started small. At first, just about the book she was reading. Then, it had expanded into something more — a comfortable, easy flow of words that stretched into the hours they spent together. And somehow, in the quiet of the library, with nothing but the rustling of pages and the soft hum of the air conditioning, the world had felt perfect.
For the first time in a long while, Caspian had found someone who didn't want anything from him, who didn't demand his time or his attention, but who gave it freely. There was no expectation. No pressure. Just two people, caught in the same moment, sharing the same space.
They had sat there for hours, their books forgotten, as they shared their lives, their dreams, and their fears. He remembered the way her laughter had sounded, light and carefree, and how it had made him forget about the weight of the world for just a while.
He remembered the warmth of her hand brushing his, the way it had felt like a promise, even though neither of them had said it out loud.
Caspian stepped deeper into the library now, walking the familiar aisles, his fingers brushing the spines of the books. The place was almost empty, just as it had been back then. He could still see the sunlight streaming in through the windows, still hear the soft echo of their voices, still feel the way his heart had quickened whenever she smiled at him.
He found the same spot they used to sit in, the one by the window, and he sat down, letting the weight of the memories wash over him. For a brief moment, it felt as though time had reversed itself. The years between then and now seemed to disappear, and he was back in that place, back with her.
But reality had a way of creeping in, and the memories, however sweet, only served to remind him of the distance that had come between them.
He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling deeply. He had never really let go of the feelings he had for her, not entirely. He had tried to bury them, to push them down, but they always found their way back, resurfacing in moments like this.
He wondered, as he often did, if she ever thought about those days. If she ever missed the way they had once been.
And just like that, the quiet of the library seemed to swallow him whole, leaving him alone with his thoughts, his memories, and the soft ache of longing that had never truly gone away.
Caspian sat in the quiet of the library, the sunlight fading softly across the rows of books. His mind wandered as he stared at the bookshelves, his fingers tracing the edge of a worn, leather-bound novel. The weight of memories pressed down on him, heavier than anything he had carried in recent years.
It was strange, really. After all this time, the memories of Isolde hadn't dulled. If anything, they felt more vivid. More alive.
He could still remember the way she looked that first day — her wild, untamed hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, her eyes always sparking with curiosity and life. She had been someone full of possibilities, someone who saw the world as a place of endless opportunities, and for a while, Caspian had seen it the same way. She had pulled him out of the rigidity of his own life, where everything had been about planning, about the future. With her, the present had felt like all that mattered.
The softness of her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke of her passions — it was something he would never forget. And yet, even with all those memories, all that warmth they had shared in those brief moments, something had changed.
His gaze dropped to the book in his hands, the same one they had once shared. He had read it once for the plot, the first time he met her. But after that, he had read it again and again for the little moments. For the way their hands had brushed, for the way she had looked up at him with that genuine smile that never seemed forced. Every time he read that book, it was like he was living those moments again.
But life had a way of moving on.
When he closed his eyes, he could still hear her voice, still feel the electricity in the air whenever she was near him. But then, just like that, she had slipped away. First, slowly, then completely, until all he was left with was the echo of her laughter in places where they had once shared so much.
What was it about that woman? Why did she still have this hold over him, even now?
A soft sigh escaped him as he stood up from the desk, his fingers brushing the old pages one last time before he tucked the book back in its place on the shelf. The ache was still there. The lingering sense of something undone, unresolved, was like a shadow that followed him wherever he went.
The sound of footsteps pulled him back into the present. He glanced up, his attention drawn by the noise, and his eyes met a familiar face — an old friend from his college days. Kieran.
"Caspian," Kieran greeted, a friendly smile crossing his face. "Long time, no see. What's the book today?"
Caspian smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Same old. Just getting lost in the past, I guess."
Kieran raised an eyebrow, his expression turning curious. "The past? I hope you're not reminiscing too much, man. We've got a whole new world out there, you know?"
Caspian chuckled, but it didn't hold any real humor. "I guess so. Just… needed some space."
Kieran nodded, understanding, and took a seat beside him. There was a pause, a moment of silence between them before Kieran spoke again.
"So, still not over her?" Kieran's voice was gentle, though there was a certain knowing in his tone.
Caspian's throat tightened at the mention of Isolde's name. "No… not really." His words felt heavier than they should, weighted with the years of unspoken things between him and the woman who had once meant everything. "It's been a while, and I thought I was getting better at moving on. But sometimes, when you least expect it, it all comes rushing back."
Kieran didn't push further. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced around the familiar library. "You know, I always thought you two were something special. Like, the way you guys talked about everything. It was like you were on the same wavelength. It felt… effortless."
Caspian's eyes dropped to the ground, his thoughts swirling. Effortless. That was exactly how it had been in the beginning. And maybe, that was part of the problem. Everything had felt so easy, so right, that when it all fell apart, it was like he'd lost more than just her — he'd lost that sense of certainty, the easy belief that everything would be okay if they just held on long enough.
He'd held on too long, he realized now. Too long without seeing that things had changed — that she had changed, and so had he.
"Caspian?"
The voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Kieran watching him carefully, concern etched across his face.
"You okay?" he asked softly, as though sensing the weight of the moment.
Caspian nodded quickly, offering a tight smile. "Yeah. I just… I don't know what to do with all this. I can't seem to let go, even though I know I should."
Kieran studied him for a long moment, then gave a short sigh. "Maybe you don't need to let go. Not entirely. But you have to start moving forward, Caspian. You can't stay stuck here forever."
The words lingered in the air between them, and for a moment, Caspian just sat in silence. Moving forward. It seemed like such a simple thing, but the more he thought about it, the harder it felt.
The thought of moving forward without her, of letting go of the memory of what they had, was a daunting prospect.
But then again, wasn't staying in the past even worse?
The light outside had faded into the soft hues of twilight by the time Caspian left the library. His mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts, as they always did after talking about Isolde. There was still something unresolved between them, a gap that he wasn't sure could ever be bridged.
But the conversation with Kieran, brief as it had been, had sparked something inside him — a flicker of clarity. Maybe he was ready to face the present again. Maybe he was ready to stop living in the shadow of memories and step back into the world he had been so hesitant to leave behind.
For the first time in a while, the future didn't seem so daunting. It was still uncertain, still full of questions, but maybe… just maybe, it was worth finding out what came next.