Elena loved spring. Not just for the warm breeze, the first flowers, and the sun finally warming her cheeks, but for the feeling of renewal, hope, and lightness. In spring, she always felt that miracles were possible.
That morning, she was walking through the park, where the branches of the trees were just beginning to be covered in young greenery. The air was filled with the scent of lilacs, and somewhere in the distance, she could hear children laughing. Elena’s gaze lingered on a small bookstall at the park entrance, and she decided to walk over.
She was choosing a book when a sudden gust of wind blew through, and the thin volume of poetry slipped from her hands. The book fell, but it never reached the ground—it was caught by someone’s hand.
"Oh, careful," she heard a voice say.
In front of her stood a tall guy with dark hair and warm brown eyes. He handed her the book, and their fingers brushed.
"Thank you," she said with a slight, shy smile.
"Tsvetaeva? A great choice," he glanced at the cover and chuckled. "I had a professor once who said that her poetry is only read by lovers or dreamers."
"And which one are you?" Elena asked with interest.
"I’d say both," he replied with a slight shrug.
And just like that, they started talking. His name was Alexei, and he was an artist. He told her how spring inspired his paintings, and she told him about her love for books and walks in the park. Conversations with him felt effortless, like a gentle spring breeze.
From that day on, they met almost every day. Alexei painted Elena while she read, and she brought him books that she thought would inspire him. Spring slowly melted into summer, but the lightness in their hearts remained, just like in those first warm April days.
One day, when the lilacs had almost faded, he confessed:
"You’ve changed my world, Elena. Before I met you, spring was just a season to me. Now, spring is you."
And that’s when Elena realized—spring not only brings renewal but also brings hearts together.
