Only If You Love Me

A chance meeting. A deep connection. But can love survive when hearts carry old scars?

Chapter 1: The First Smile
Arman didn't like cafes. He didn't like the forced cheerfulness, the music that tried too hard, or the smell of burnt coffee that lingered in his coat. But that afternoon in Ahvaz, when the sky draped itself in soft grey and rain gently tapped the windows of the world, something led him inside a quiet corner spot called CafNovella.
He planned to sit in a corner, scroll through meaningless headlines, and leave. But then he saw her.
She sat alone by the large window, a red notebook open in front of her, pen moving gently across the page. Her hair framed her face in soft waves, and her green eyes followed the rain like it was telling her a secret. There was something about her presence--still, focused, unbothered by the noise of the world.
She looked up.
And smiled.
It wasn't a smile for anyone else. Not flashy, not designed to charm. It was a small, sincere curve of her lips that felt like it was meant just for him.
Arman sat at the table beside hers, pretending it was the only free spot. His heart was thudding in a way that surprised him. He wasn't the kind to fall easily. Or quickly. But that smile...
"And I wanted to see you smile, my rose."
She noticed him glancing her way. Closed her notebook gently. "You look like someone who hates coffee," she said, eyes sparkling.
He chuckled. "I do. But the rain forced me inside."
"Well, that's poetic," she smiled.
Her name was Eline. And by the time the rain stopped, Arman knew he wanted it to pour forever.

Chapter 2: If You Are Blue
Days turned into weeks. Coffee into long walks. Rain into sunshine.
Eline had a quiet depth. She loved books, hated small talk, and laughed with her whole face. She didn't speak much about her past, and Arman didn't ask. There was something sacred about the way she guarded her story. He honored that.
What mattered was the now.
They met in bookshops. Wandered through dusty antique stores. Cooked late at night. She showed him her poetry. He showed her the sketches he never dared share before.
One night, she cried. Something triggered a memory she didn't explain. Arman didn't ask why. He just wrapped his arms around her, letting silence do the comforting.
"If you are blue then I would kiss you. If you are sad then maybe a hug or two."
When she smiled again, it felt like sunrise.
They never used the word love. But it lived in the way he looked at her across a crowded room. In the way she traced circles on his hand when they sat quietly on the couch. In the way their silences were never empty.

Chapter 3: What If It's Not Enough?
The cracks didn't come from her. They came from within Arman.
The closer they got, the more he feared. He had never loved like this before. He wasn't sure if he deserved it. His past was full of stumbles, of letting people down. What if he failed her too?
He became quieter. Pulled away, even when she reached for him. His laughter became thinner. His words, fewer.
Eline noticed. Of course she did.
"Where are you, Arman?" she asked one evening, her voice barely above a whisper.
He stared out the window. "I don't know."
She waited.
He turned to her, voice trembling. "I don't want to hurt you."
She stepped closer. "Then don't."
But he said nothing. And in that silence, she walked away.
"Take my heart, for it beats stronger when near you. Take what you need of all I have to give today."
The apartment felt hollow without her.

Chapter 4: If You Love Me Like I Love You
Time passed.
Arman tried to forget. Tried to convince himself it was for the best. But nothing felt real without her. Not the morning light. Not his own smile.
"You are to me everything that I have ever lacked."
He found her note in a book she'd once lent him. A poem. His own words, copied in her handwriting:
"If you love me like I love you, then all I want to do is hold you tight and never leave you."
He stood outside her apartment door in the pouring rain, soaked, heart racing.
When she opened the door, she didn't look surprised.
"I thought you hated rain," she said softly.
"Only when it's not leading me back to you."
He stepped closer. "I was afraid. But not anymore."
And when he held her this time, she didn't let go.

End