The insistent chime of the train station clock jarred Elara from her reverie. Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest brewing inside her. She was late, again. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she hurried towards the platform, her vibrant scarf trailing behind her.
Suddenly, a figure collided with her, sending a jolt of surprise through her. "Oh, I am so sorry!" a deep voice apologized.
Elara looked up into the most startlingly blue eyes she had ever seen. They belonged to a man with windswept brown hair and a look of amused apology. "No worries, it happens," she replied, a blush creeping up her neck.
He introduced himself as Liam, a man of science, his words precise and measured. Elara, an artist who lived by the whims of inspiration, found his methodical nature both fascinating and perplexing. They exchanged a few more awkward pleasantries before the train arrived, whisking them away in opposite directions.
Over the next few weeks, the coincidences began. They bumped into each other at the same bustling cafe, both drawn to the same obscure corner table. They found themselves in line at the museum, captivated by the same abstract art exhibit. One evening, they even ended up staying in the same hotel room, booked...