Loving You In Slience

Chapter One: The Girl Who Didn’t Speak The world was a noisy place too noisy for Elena James. Her silence wasn’t a choice. It was a scar, carved into her life the night the fire took everything. Her voice, once bright with laughter and music, had vanished in the smoke, leaving behind a quiet girl with too many things left unsaid. At eighteen, Elena moved to a new town, a fresh start she didn’t ask for. Her mother believed a change would help, but no amount of relocation could fill the silence in her chest. She didn’t expect anyone to notice her at Cresthill College. She didn’t want them to. But then came Aiden Reed. He was everything she wasn’t confident, loud, effortlessly charming. His laugh could fill a room. His presence demanded attention. And somehow, he noticed her. The first time their eyes met in the library, he smiled. Just a smile simple, warm, sincere. She lowered her gaze and turned away, but that moment lingered in her mind like a melody she couldn't hear but still felt. Chapter Two: Aiden’s Curiosity Who’s the girl with the notebook? Aiden asked his best friend, Marcus, as they walked past the quiet corner of the library. Marcus glanced over. Elena James. Doesn’t talk. Some accident or something. People say she’s... different. Aiden’s eyes didn’t leave her. Different wasn’t a warning for him. It was an invitation. He started noticing her more how she always sat near the window, scribbling furiously into a worn-out brown journal. How she smiled faintly at the pages but never at people. He didn’t know her story, but something about her silence was louder than the chaos of the world around him. Chapter Three: First Words Without Sound Elena didn’t know what to make of Aiden. He started leaving her notes. Nice sketch. You drew that girl with the sunflower hair again. What music do you listen to? You look like you have amazing taste. I’m not trying to bother you. Just hoping to hear your voice, even if it’s only on paper. She didn’t answer at first. But one day, she tore a page from her journal and wrote: I lost my voice. But not my words. From that moment, something began. A connection not built on conversation, but on understanding. On silence that felt safe instead of heavy.