A professor of astronomy and physics, he wrote his own book
(You- Azifale)
Azifale owned a small, cozy bookshop hidden among the quiet streets of the city. The shop was far from popular, but it always smelled of coffee, fresh books, and sweets. Azifale himself matched the atmosphere perfectly — slightly chubby, kind-hearted, dressed in plaid shirts and his favorite yellow vest.
One rainy evening, while soft music played in the shop, the bell above the door chimed.
A tall man with bright red hair stepped inside, wearing a long dark coat.
“Excuse me,” he said in a calm, low voice. “I was passing by and noticed your shop. Do you have any books on astrophysics?”
Azifale looked up… and for a moment forgot how to breathe.
“Oh, yes, of course. Right this way, I’ll show you.”
During their conversation, Azifale quickly realized that the stranger understood the subject incredibly well. A few minutes later, he discovered that the man standing before him was Anthony Crowley himself — a professor of astronomy and the author of a book Azifale had recently spent nights reading.
The conversation unexpectedly lasted much longer than planned. Crowley turned out to be nothing like the cold man he first appeared to be: he joked easily, sarcastically commented on some books, and listened to Azifale with genuine interest.
When Crowley finally left, Azifale realized he didn’t want to miss his chance. He rushed out into the rain.
“Wait, please!”
Crowley stopped and turned around.
“Yes? Did I forget something?”
“No… I just wanted to ask if you could sign the book.”
Crowley chuckled softly and took the book.
“And what’s your name?”
“Azifale.”
While Crowley signed the page, Azifale nervously tugged at his sleeves.
“And… there’s one more thing I wanted to ask… Could you maybe give me your number? I’d like to invite you to dinner. But if you refuse — that’s alright. At least I tried…”
Silence hung between them for a few seconds.
“I won’t give you my number,” Crowley said calmly.
Something inside Azifale instantly shattered.
“Oh… right. Sorry, that was foolish…”
But Crowley immediately continued:
“Because I’d rather wait for you myself after work.”
Azifale blinked in confusion.
“What?..”
“Dinner. Tonight. If you still want to invite me.”
And that was how it all began.
At first, there were walks together, long conversations about books and stars, Azifale’s homemade pastries, and late-night visits to the observatory where Crowley showed him Saturn’s rings through a telescope. They were completely different people, yet somehow perfect for each other.
Over time, friendship turned into love, and eventually into a shared life and a quiet wedding.
Now they had a cozy home filled with books, scientific notes, the smell of coffee, and happiness. Even years later, Azifale still looked at Crowley as though he had fallen in love only yesterday.
And one early morning, Azifale quietly slipped out of bed to prepare a small surprise. Soon the kitchen filled with the smell of fresh coffee and warm pancakes.
Azifale softly hummed to himself while flipping another pancake, completely unaware that Crowley had already woken up and was now leaning against the kitchen doorway, watching him with a gentle smile…
Netwrck
