This is a romance short story I got inspired by this image, hope you'll like it. Most of the time, I write horror/thriller/fantasy/suspense stories. So I figured it's time to give myself some challenge lol.
Her eyes widen, not from the wound but at the sight of the exhausted, haggard, yet charming man kneeling on the wooden floor before her.
  Delilah examines the book, wondering if it's a prop from a magic kit. While looking up at the man, she notices his face, smeared with grime and painted with scratches.
 The man slowly looks up at her, his voice, breathy and weak yet soothing, murmurs, "Thank you..."
 Nearby customers cast curious glances at the man as they walk away, confused by his out-of-place attire — a tattered black jacket and jeans made of unique fabric, its texture is unlike anything people have seen. Despite his lips moving, Delilah isn't listening. One overwhelming thought fills her mind: Did she just witness a man materializing from within a book?
 Two days before this bizarre yet magical encounter, Delilah feels trapped in a mundane and suffocating world. Her days are an endless cycle: waking up, going to work, eating bland microwave meals, and taking a shower before going to bed. Only to do it all over again: rinse and repeat.
 Even though she finds her routine tedious, Delilah cherishes the comforting simplicity. The only time she loathes is when going to work, where her boss berates her and deems her useless, while her colleagues revel in petty backstabbing.
 Each day, after work, Delilah escapes to her sanctuary: a warm and quaint second-hand bookstore saturated with the sweet, musty aroma of old pages. The cozy and serene ambiance wraps around her like a comforting embrace. She takes delights in hiding among the towering shelves, browsing, picking a book, and retreating into a corner to read. This time, she discovers a forgotten book nestled on the very bottom shelf of a bookshelf in the back, titled: "The Forgotten Joy".
 This is how she meets the fragile, slender, and charming man. His pitiable state piques Delilah's sympathy. Oblivious to the blood still oozing out from her index finger, she feels an inexplicable urge to help him.
 Delilah kneels, offering her hand. The man looks at it, hesitates, and then accepts. Standing up, their eyes lock in a prolonged exchange and brimmed with confusion. To break the silence, Delilah asks, "Who are you?"
 He looks down at the floor, his expression a mixture of perplexity and forlorn. "I... I don't know."
 "You don't know?" Delilah chuckles.
 His blue eyes meet Delilah's amber-hued ones, flickering with frustration and a hint of irritation. "No." His sorrowful expression reminds Delilah of a lost puppy. Deep down, the urge to help him intensifies.
 Feeling relieved that they're hidden at the back, away from prying eyes, Delilah takes a deep breath and asks, "Do you know how you got here?"
 The man shakes his head. "It's okay," Delilah closes the book and moves closer. "We can go to the station." The man steps back, growing insecure and uncomfortable.Â
 "What?" Delilah presses.
 Looking out for eavesdroppers, the man's watchful eyes look around. "I'm grateful that you set me free, but trust me, you want to stay away from me."
 Delilah crosses her arms, defiant. "You expect me to just ditch you here?"
 The man nods feebly and says, "Yes."
 Delilah might be timid, but once she sets her mind, there's no point in trying to convince her. "No, clearly, you need help."
 The man stares at her, dumbfounded. Then, seizing the moment, he darts out of the store.
 "Hey, wait!" With the book in hand, Delilah tries to go after him, but the clerk's stern voice abruptly stops her. "You haven't paid for that yet!"