Cielo didn't fall in love the way other people did.
No slow glances across a classroom.
No accidental hand brushes.
No romantic background music conveniently timed by the universe.
Her first love… arrived quietly.
In hardcover.
—
"Cielo," Jessa said one afternoon, dropping into the library seat with dramatic exhaustion, "I think I'm in love."
Cielo didn't even look up. "With who? Please say it's not another problematic boy from Section B."
Jessa shook her head. "Worse."
Cielo finally looked at her. "Worse than emotional damage in human form?"
Jessa pointed at the bookshelf.
Cielo followed her finger.
"…A book?"
"Yes."
Cielo blinked. "That is the most emotionally stable relationship you've ever had."
—
But Cielo already knew that feeling.
She just hadn't admitted it out loud.
Because across from her, on the desk, lay her current obsession:
A worn-out medical reference book titled"Human Physiology and Immune Response to Environmental Triggers."
Jessa narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me…"
Cielo immediately closed it. "No."
"You were looking at it like it was your boyfriend."
"I was not."
"You were whispering to it."
"I was reading."
"In a soft voice."
"Because science deserves respect."
—
Jessa leaned closer. "So you're in love with it."
Cielo paused.
Then sighed.
"…Yes."
Jessa gasped. "Finally. Emotional honesty."
Cielo corrected her calmly. "Not romantic love. Academic attachment."
"That sounds worse."
"It's efficient."
—
Cielo flipped the book open again.
She pointed at a diagram.
"This explains my life," she said.
Jessa squinted. "That's a diagram of immune response."
"Yes," Cielo nodded. "My body sees sunlight and says: 'Enemy detected.'"
Jessa laughed. "Your immune system is overdramatic."
"It is committed to the role," Cielo replied.
—
She continued reading aloud:
"Photosensitivity disorders may involve abnormal immune reactions to ultraviolet radiation, resulting in dermatologic and systemic symptoms such as erythema, fatigue, and syncope."
She closed the book.
Then added casually:
"So basically, I am a high-maintenance plant."
—
Jessa laughed. "That is not how medicine works."
"It is in my personal interpretation."
—
But then something softened in Cielo's voice.
"I like this book," she admitted.
Jessa raised an eyebrow. "Because it explains you?"
Cielo shook her head slightly.
"Because it doesn't judge me."
—
That night, at home, Rosa found Cielo still reading.
Same book.
Same corner.
Same careful distance from the window.
"Still dating your science book?" Rosa asked, leaning on the doorframe.
Cielo didn't look up. "Yes. It understands me better than most people."
Rosa snorted. "That's concerning."
"It's reliable," Cielo said.
—
Rosa walked over and sat beside her.
"What does it say about you today?" she asked.
Cielo flipped a page.
"Technically?" she said. "It says my body is overreacting to UV radiation."
Rosa frowned. "And emotionally?"
Cielo paused.
Then smiled faintly.
"That I'm not crazy."
—
Silence.
Rosa looked at her daughter for a long moment.
Then quietly said, "You were never crazy."
Cielo didn't respond immediately.
Because that was the kind of sentence that needed time to land.
—
Instead, she closed the book gently.
"Mom," she said, lighter now, "I think this is my first love."
Rosa raised an eyebrow. "That book?"
"Yes."
"That's sad."
"It's stable."
Rosa sighed. "You need real love someday."
Cielo looked at her.
Then shrugged.
"I already have enough chaos in my immune system."
—
Rosa shook her head, but she was smiling.
—
Later that night, Cielo wrote in her notebook:
First Love: A Book
It did not hold my hand.It did not look at me in the sun.It only explained why I couldn't stay there.
And somehow… that was enough.
—
Outside, the sun kept burning its usual story into the world.
Inside, Cielo learned a different kind of love:
Not loud.Not risky.Not fleeting.
Just ink, pages, and understanding.
And for a girl who could not stand sunlight…
that was the closest thing to warmth she had ever known.