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Chapter 3 - Love

It was a Tuesday evening when MoonInk decided to ask a question she'd never thought she'd type to a stranger.

MoonInk:Hey… random question. Do you ever write romance?

IronQuill:Not really. I'm terrible at it.

MoonInk:Why?

IronQuill:Because I have zero experience. I wouldn't know what's realistic and what's just cheesy.

MoonInk:Same here.

That confession surprised both of them. In the weeks they'd been talking, they'd shared little glimpses into their lives, but love — or the lack of it — had never come up.

IronQuill:So you've never dated anyone?

MoonInk:Nope. Not even close. I wouldn't know where to start.

IronQuill:Guess we're both noobs then.

MoonInk:Complete noobs.

She laughed softly to herself. It was strange how comforting it was to know she wasn't the only one navigating life without the "typical" teenage romance stories her friends always seemed to have.

The conversation drifted after that — from the awkwardness of school crushes neither had confessed to, to their favourite comfort foods, to the strange little rituals they had when writing. She always needed a mug of hot chocolate, even in summer. He always wrote with background rain sounds playing, no matter the weather outside.

MoonInk:You know… maybe that's why we write the way we do.

IronQuill:What do you mean?

MoonInk:We don't write from what's happened to us. We write from what we wish could happen.

That one hit him harder than he expected. He stared at the message for a while before typing back.

IronQuill:You're right. Maybe we're just… building the worlds we wish we lived in.

The chat went on until her battery warning flashed red. She didn't want to stop, but she typed one last message before logging off.

MoonInk:If you ever figure out how to write romance, let me know. Maybe we can learn together.

IronQuill:Deal.

Neither of them realised it, but something shifted that night. They weren't just two writers exchanging words anymore. They were two people — equally inexperienced in love — unknowingly taking their first steps into it, one late-night message at a time.

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