The mellow music playing on my headphones is making me hum a bit.

Slightly slouching on my seat, tapping the open book using my fingertips, I let the solemn moment creep into the almost empty study room.

I'm the only one here now without my older brother. Mama and papa are always out of town for business meetings. I sighed at the thought of it. My older brother and I are used to this all the time. We don't feel much.

We're both mature enough to understand things like that. Besides, also for the business that we have long taken care of, all the departures they leave home. It is also for the future of our family.

Moments later, two consecutive knocks interrupted my quiet reading and listening to music. I slouched in my seat and shifted to the door's direction.

"Who's there?" My lazy question slightly amplified to be heard by anyone knocking. "I said, who's there?" I repeated when I heard no answer.

I realized maybe there was an answer, but I didn't hear it because of the music. So I quickly turned it off first and put my cellphone to the side.

I didn't have to do it again because the door opened on purpose. My older brother looked there with a tray in his right hand while on the other side, his dog was being dragged.

Maybe he just came home.

My forehead immediately wrinkled. "Ronald! Didn't I tell you to take that dog away from me? My allergies might get triggered again.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry, Aya." He apologizes.

Come here, get these. Eat first. You've been reading since morning. Aren't you hungry? Your day off is always spent with books and coffee. Maybe sooner or later, coffee will be flowing through your body and not blood. "

I'm not yet hungry. But, thank you for your concern. I'm perfectly fine, and mind you, I only sipped a cappuccino. That's just one.

He tied the end of the rope to the door knob and laughed as he handed over the tray.

I picked it up and put the books I was reading aside before placing the tray with only food on the table.

"Thank you, Ronald," I uttered.

Smiling, he approached me and pulled me in for a tight hug. I automatically smiled and reciprocated his hug.

"You should rest your eyes, Aya." Didn't your doctor say that your head hurts because you often slog through books? Take my advice, okay? Will you rest first after that book?" It's a long litany.

"Listen to me," he added.

I just nodded and stopped arguing. "All right," I said.

I'll get going. "I'll just take my dog out for a walk," he said.

He messed up my hair for a while before going out with his dog, obviously eager to walk outside with his boss.

Despite my reluctance, I just followed what my older brother said.

After eating, I put the books back on the shelf that I would have finished by tonight. I was returning the last book to the container when I looked at the clock hanging on the wall.

It's already 2:30 am.

I just sighed. I didn't realize that I had spent so much time reading a few books. It was three o'clock in the morning when I woke up to start reading.

When all the books I was supposed to read were put back on the shelf, I put away what I had eaten. I'll just take it to the kitchen to wash.

But before I could even take a step away from the shelf where I put the last book I was reading, a piece of paper fell from nowhere. I shrugged it off and quickly picked it up. I no longer had to rely on helpers to clean and pick it up. I can do it.

I don't know which shelf has it stuck to it, but I still picked it up to put it in the right place. at least on a certain shelf or table.

I scratched the paper first before looking at what was written. There's none on the other side, so I flipped it to see if there was something important written.

I frowned as I gradually realized what role I was holding. My eyes widened when I let go of it and backed away in shock.

Some books fell because I collided with the shelf. Then I was hit in the face, so my eyebrows bled.

I was shaking at that part and was still shocked to see my own blood.

"W-what the hell?" I stuttered.

"No," I uttered, almost whispering the word.

Who wouldn't be shocked?

When the paper is none other than one of the many letters from my first love,

Who died four years ago.