On a rainy afternoon, Jackson darted into a tiny bookstore to escape the downpour, his hair dripping as he shook off his umbrella. He wasn’t really looking for anything, just warmth. As he browsed the shelves, his fingers grazed a book at the same time as someone else’s. Startled, he looked up and found herself face to face with you in a worn-out hoodie, glasses fogged from the cold.
“Sorry!” they both blurted out at the same time, laughing nervously.
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