Chapter 3: Between Pages and Words

It had been a week since Ethan had first walked into the bookstore. Every night, he found himself returning, a quiet anticipation pulling him back to that little corner of the world where no one knew who he was.

Noah wasn’t like the others. There was no pressure to be anything other than what he was. A man who read, who existed in the world with the same kind of quiet intensity that Ethan hadn’t realized he missed so much.

Each evening, they’d exchange little bits of conversation—books, life, the weather. Noah would recommend something new, sometimes with a sly grin, and Ethan would take it, always coming back for more. Each visit felt like the slow peeling of a layer, a strip of the armor Ethan had built over the years.

Ethan, for his part, couldn’t shake the feeling that Noah was something different—something more real—than anyone he’d met in Hollywood. It wasn’t just the way he was unaffected by fame, though that played a part. It was the way Noah seemed so comfortable in his own skin. So sure of who he was, even if he wasn’t quite aware of how much that drew Ethan in.

On the eighth night, Ethan showed up a little later than usual, the rain coming down harder than ever. As he stepped inside, the familiar bell jingled, and for a moment, everything outside faded into the hum of the warm space.

Noah was at the counter, as usual, but this time, there was something different in his gaze. Something hesitant, almost uncertain.

Ethan walked up to him, the soft tapping of his sneakers on the floor the only sound between them. “You alright?”

Noah didn’t immediately respond, only nodded, but Ethan could see the faint tightness in his shoulders. “Just tired,” Noah said quietly, almost apologetic.

Ethan stood there for a moment, weighing the decision. Normally, he’d keep things light, maybe make a joke. But tonight, something in Noah’s eyes made him want to offer more.

“Can I… help with anything? If you need to talk or something.”

The words felt awkward as they left his mouth, but they were real. Genuine. He meant it, even if he didn’t know why.

Noah studied him for a moment, the silence stretching longer than usual. Then, slowly, he shook his head. “It’s not that simple,” he said, voice soft.

Ethan frowned. “You know, you’re allowed to let people in. Doesn’t have to be all on you.”

For a second, Noah’s gaze flickered to the floor, and Ethan wasn’t sure what that meant. He didn’t push, though. Instead, he just reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the book Noah had given him the first night.

“I finished it,” Ethan said, sliding the book onto the counter.

Noah’s brow raised. “You finished The Stranger?”

Ethan nodded, giving him a half-smile. “It was… a little heavy. But I think I got it. Life’s absurd, and we’re all just wandering through it, trying to make sense of it.”

Noah’s lips twitched, the first hint of a smile Ethan had seen in days. “You actually read it. Didn’t expect that.”

Ethan shrugged. “I told you I would.” He paused, watching Noah carefully. “You’re a little different from most people I know. You know that?”

Noah blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Ethan took a breath, feeling a bit exposed for the first time since he’d met him. “You don’t act like… like everyone else. Like you’re constantly looking for something from me. Or anyone.”

Noah didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned on the counter, his expression unreadable. “Maybe I’ve just learned that sometimes, being around people who expect nothing is the only way to figure out who you really are.”

Ethan’s chest tightened at the quiet intensity in Noah’s words. It was a truth that resonated deep within him, and for the first time in weeks, he felt like maybe—just maybe—he was starting to figure out who he was again, too.

“I like that,” Ethan said softly.

Noah finally met his gaze, the faintest flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Maybe you’ll like the next one too,” he said, sliding another book across the counter to him.

Ethan’s fingers brushed against Noah’s as he picked it up. The contact was brief, but it sent a jolt of something sharp through him.

He stared at Noah for a moment, his mind spinning with questions he hadn’t allowed himself to ask. He wasn’t used to being vulnerable—not in his public life, and certainly not in private. But standing here, looking at Noah, something inside him longed to let the walls come down.

He didn’t say anything else. Instead, he just nodded, tucking the new book under his arm.

“I’ll be back,” Ethan said, voice lower than usual, something in it unspoken, lingering between them.

Noah gave a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Still, there was something in the way he looked at Ethan that felt like an invitation—an unspoken promise that there was more to come.

As Ethan stepped back into the rain, he felt a shift inside him, something he hadn’t felt in years: the sense that, for once, he wasn’t running away from something.

He was running toward it.

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To Be Continued…

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