There was a time when Ethan Cole didn't look at her like a stranger.
The first time he saw her was under a full moon, back in 2020.
---
### The Full Moon Book Club
Ethan was eighteen when his book club decided to spend an evening at the Read Me Book Café. It was October—the kind of night people quietly looked forward to every year, when the full moon seemed brighter than usual. The sky was clear, and the light from the moon filtered softly through the café windows.
Inside, the atmosphere was warm and relaxed. Books lay open across the tables, and cups of coffee sat half-finished as conversations moved easily from one topic to another. They read poetry, shared stories, and laughed over lines they didn't fully understand but pretended to.
At one point, Sheila asked him to play. Ethan picked up his guitar without much resistance, adjusting it slightly before letting his fingers fall into a familiar rhythm. Music had always come easier to him than speaking. Sheila began to sing—a song she had written—and her voice filled the space gently. When she finished, the group clapped and teased her before turning their attention to Ethan.
"Your turn," someone said.
Ethan smiled faintly and read one of his poems. It wasn't anything special—just something he had written a few nights ago—but the room grew quieter as he spoke. For a moment, everything felt simple.
After a while, they moved out to the balcony. The air was cooler outside, a soft breeze brushing against their skin. Some of them continued singing, while others leaned against the railing, talking about random things.
Ethan stayed near the doorway, his guitar resting against his knee as he played absentmindedly. That was when he noticed Becky talking to someone nearby.
A girl.
At first, he didn't pay much attention. Becky talked to everyone. But then the girl shifted slightly, stepping into the moonlight, and something about the way the light fell across her face made him pause.
His fingers slowed on the strings.
She wasn't doing anything unusual. She was simply talking, simply smiling, but there was something about her that caught him off guard. Maybe it was the way the breeze moved through her hair, or the way her dimples appeared when she smiled. He couldn't explain it, and he didn't try to.
He just kept looking.
A moment later, she walked past him, and the faint scent of her perfume lingered briefly in the air before fading. Ethan didn't realize he had stopped playing until one of his friends nudged him.
"Hey, what happened?"
He blinked and glanced down at his guitar. "Nothing," he replied.
But it wasn't nothing.
He had never seen her before. She wasn't part of their group, and yet she stayed in his mind longer than she should have.
That was the first time Ethan saw Zara.
Zara, however, didn't notice him. She had come to the café to help her aunt for the evening, and Becky was someone she already knew, so she had simply stopped to talk for a while before getting back to work.
To her, it was just another night.
But for Ethan, it was the beginning of something he didn't understand yet.
---
### The Beginning
Later that year, they crossed paths again at Dawson English High School.
Ethan was in his final year, studying arts in the Lotus section. He was quiet, the kind of student who preferred staying unnoticed, often buried in books or sketching in his journal. Zara Hart, on the other hand, was impossible to ignore. She was in the science stream, Rose section.She was a fast learner, easily keeping up with the difficult lessons. Her mother wanted her to become a doctor, so Zara followed that path without questioning it, even if her heart wasn't truly in the lab.
She was also bright, lively, and always surrounded by friends. People were naturally drawn to her, and she carried that attention effortlessly.
Ethan was not one of them. At least, not openly.
One afternoon, as the final bell approached, Zara rushed down the school steps, clearly in a hurry. Her footsteps were quick and slightly careless, and before she could stop herself, she collided with someone.
"Sorry—I'm so sorry," Ethan said quickly.
"It's fine," Zara replied without really looking at him, already moving past.
"Wait… this is yours."
She turned slightly. Ethan held out her notebook. She took it from him without much thought.
"Thanks."
And just like that, they walked in the same direction toward school again—side by side, yet still distant.
Days passed, and life continued as usual. But for Ethan, something had changed.
During a short break, he sat near the window with his journal open, his pen moving slowly across the page as if every word mattered. Every now and then, his eyes drifted toward Zara's classroom, where she laughed easily with her friends.
He watched quietly before tearing a small piece of paper, writing something, folding it carefully, and slipping it away.
Later that day, Zara found the note in her bag. She opened it casually, her eyes scanning the handwritten words.
You are beautiful. The prettiest girl I've ever met. Have a wonderful day.
— The Lotus 35
A small rose was drawn at the bottom.
Zara let out a small laugh—not mocking, just surprised.
The next day, she found another note. Then another.
Each one was simple, thoughtful, and different from anything she had received before.
"Who even writes like this?" she muttered.
Her friend leaned closer. "That's so cute. Who is it?"
"I don't know," Zara replied, though there was a hint of curiosity in her voice. "But I'm going to find out."
Eventually, they did. Someone pointed them in the right direction.
"Roll number 35? That's Ethan Cole," a girl said casually. "Quiet guy. Good at drawing."
Zara didn't respond immediately, but something about that stayed with her.
---
### The Market and the First Kiss
That afternoon, after school, Zara stopped by the local market to buy fresh flowers. It was something she enjoyed doing, choosing them carefully as if each one carried its own small piece of happiness.
As she stepped out of the shop, she noticed Ethan standing across the street at a small roadside stall, eating quietly as if nothing else existed around him.
She smiled to herself before walking over.
"Can I have some too?"
Ethan froze, clearly surprised. "Oh—I'm sorry—"
Zara laughed softly. "Relax."
He handed her the plate awkwardly. "It's really good," he said.
She took a bite, her expression lighting up. "Okay… this is actually amazing."
For a moment, neither of them spoke, but the silence didn't feel uncomfortable.
Ethan noticed the flowers in her hand. "They're beautiful."
"I buy them often," Zara said. "They make me feel better."
She glanced at him briefly. "I liked your drawing too."
A quiet smile appeared on Ethan's face.
After a while, they began walking together. Neither of them spoke much, but the silence between them felt natural. Eventually, Ethan suggested a place nearby where they could watch the sunset, and Zara agreed.
The place was quiet, almost hidden. There wasn't much to sit on, so Ethan placed his notebook on the ground for her.
Zara sat, and they watched the sky slowly change colors—from gold to orange, then something softer. The wind moved gently around them, and for a while, neither of them said anything.
"It's beautiful," Zara said softly.
She turned slightly toward Ethan.
He was already looking at her.
For a brief moment, neither of them moved. Zara smiled shyly and turned away, but before she could fully look back at the sunset, Ethan leaned in.
The kiss was brief and uncertain, more instinct than intention. Ethan pulled back immediately.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean—"
"It's okay," Zara said quietly.
He hesitated, then leaned in again—slower this time, more certain. Zara didn't pull away.
---
### The Shattering
They grew closer after that, not in a loud or obvious way, but quietly—through letters, shared moments, and conversations that meant more than they seemed.
Ethan wrote to her often—poems, sketches, small pieces of himself. Zara listened, and for a while, it felt real.
But slowly, things began to change.
Her friends started to notice, and with that came teasing, then whispers, then judgment. What once felt special began to feel heavy.
Zara didn't like that feeling.
So she started pulling away.
At first, Ethan didn't understand. He waited for her every day, hoping she would look at him the way she used to. Sometimes she did, but it never lasted. Soon enough, she would turn away again.
Days passed. Then weeks.
No replies. No letters returned.
Nothing.
Until one day, he finally stopped her.
"Why are you avoiding me?" Ethan asked, his voice low but unsteady.
"I just… don't want this anymore," Zara replied.
"Then why didn't you say it?"
"You already knew."
He stepped closer. "Tell me what I did wrong."
"Nothing."
That answer hurt more than anything else.
"I'm still young," she continued. "I don't want something serious. I just want to enjoy my life."
Ethan reached for her hand. "Just give me a chance."
She pulled away.
"I don't think I'm made for this kind of love," she said quietly.
Ethan stood there, struggling to hold himself together.
"I don't love you," Zara said.
The words settled heavily between them.
"Let's be strangers from now on."
Ethan didn't argue. He didn't stop her. He just stood there, unable to move as she turned and walked away.
For a long time, he remained where he was, staring at nothing.
Then slowly, he looked down at the sketchbook in his hand—the same one filled with pieces of her.
His fingers tightened around it.
And in one sudden motion, he tore it apart.
Every page.
Every word.
Every memory.
And only then did he finally let himself.
They became strangers.
Just like she asked.
So why couldn't she stop watching him?
