She didn't notice when it started, not really. Love rarely announces itself with noise or ceremony. It begins in the smallest, most unremarkable ways—like a name suddenly feeling softer in your mind, like a laugh echoing longer than it should, like your attention drifting without permission.
At first, she thought it was just admiration. Something harmless. Something controlled.
She would see him and tell herself it was nothing more than appreciation for a person who existed beautifully in the same space as her. The way he spoke made ordinary things sound important. The way he listened made people feel like they were not interruptions but entire stories worth hearing. She told herself these were just observations. Logical ones. Safe ones.
But love is not logical. It waits patiently for the mind to lower its guard.
It started changing her in quiet ways.
