Hendry_budisaputra

She was cold in chat. But when they met, her silence spoke louder than words.

Nayla is the kind of girl who leaves your message unread, not because she doesn’t care, but because she doesn’t know how to care in a way that fits inside a blue bubble.

Raka, a warm and extroverted guy, falls for Nayla’s quiet presence. But as their connection grows, so does his confusion. How do you hold on to someone who disappears every time the screen lights up?

This is not a story of grand declarations. It’s about pauses, glances, and the kind of love that lingers in silence.

Cold on Screen, Warm in Real Life is a slow-burn urban romance about learning to speak each other’s language even when one is made of noise and the other of quiet.

Cold on Screen, Warm in Real Life

The space between them was quiet—but not empty. It hummed with everything unsaid, every late-night thought, every almost-text, every glance that lingered a second too long. The kind of silence that didn't feel awkward, just full. Like the air between them was holding its breath.

Nayla stood near the shelves in the back corner of the bookstore, fingers hesitating over the spine of a familiar name. His favorite author. She hadn't planned to come here today she almost didn't but something about the quietness of this place, and the chance she might see him again, pulled her in.

Raka watched her from a few feet away. He didn't move closer right away. He just watched, carefully, respectfully, like she might bolt if he moved too fast.

There was no sarcasm in him today. No teasing glint in his eyes. Just something quieter. Calmer. A kind of steady presence that waited without pushing.

Their hands brushed as they reached for the same book. Neither of them moved away.

"I get scared when things feel real," Nayla said, her voice so soft it almost got swallowed by the stillness around them. She didn't look at him. Her eyes stayed on the rows of books in front of her. "It's easier to disappear than to disappoint."

Raka's expression didn't change much, but something in his shoulders softened. "You never disappoint me, Nayla."

She glanced at him then, as if checking to see if he meant it. Whatever she found in his face made her look away again quickly, eyes glassy, hands suddenly unsure of what to do.

"I wanted yesterday to be perfect," she admitted. "But when the moment came… I panicked. I thought if I bailed, maybe it wouldn't matter. Maybe you'd just forget."

"It mattered," he said. Not accusing, not bitter. Just true.

"I know." Her voice cracked. "That's why I came back."

Raka stepped a little closer, just enough for her to feel his presence beside her again. He reached for the book she'd touched and held it out to her. "Read this one. Page 42."

She blinked at him. "What's on page 42?"

"Something that reminded me of you."

She opened it carefully, reverently almost, flipping to the page with hands that didn't quite stop trembling.

Her eyes moved over the words, and her breath caught.

Some people speak so quietly, you have to lean in to hear.And once you do, you never want to leave.

Nayla stared at the sentence for a long moment, the page blurring slightly.

Raka smiled softly. "I don't mind leaning in."

She looked up at him, really looked at the boy who teased her just enough to make her smile, who sat in silence with her without needing to fix anything, who remembered page numbers and poetry lines and the way she sometimes disappeared without meaning to.

This time, she didn't step away. She moved closer instead, until their arms brushed not by accident, not by chance.

"You don't have to be perfect," he said. "Just stay."

She nodded, her eyes full but steady. "I want to."

They didn't need more words after that.

In the middle of a bookstore, beneath the soft hum of quiet music and whispering pages, Nayla stayed.

And Raka, as always, was there just waiting, listening, and leaning in.

Chapter 24 – The Bookstore Touch