Across time and space, p.1
Across Time and Space, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Across Time and Space
PLAYLIST
PROLOGUE Luna
1 Luna
2 Cooper
3 Luna
4 Luna
5 Cooper
6 Luna
7 Luna
8 Luna
9 Cooper
10 Cooper
11 Luna
12 Luna
13 Cooper
14
15
16
17
18
19
20 Cooper
21 Luna
22 Luna
23 Cooper
24 Luna
25 Luna
26 Luna
27 Cooper
28 Luna
29 Luna
30 Luna Four years later
31 Cooper Three weeks later
Epilogue Cooper One year later
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
About the Author
To everyone who wishes on a 11:11 for a love that fuels them. One day, you won't have to ask for it anymore.
First published in Great Britain by Constellation Books in 2026
Copyright © Prathiksha Selvaraj 2026
The right of Prathiksha Selvaraj to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner for the purpose of training artificial intelligence technologies or systems.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, music artists, and song titles mentioned in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used for narrative purposes only. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or
locales is entirely coincidental.
Printed and bound in Great Britain
Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-9194828-3-5
eBook ISBN: 978-1-9194828-7-3
PLAYLIST
Bigger Than the Whole Sky by Taylor Swift
Cornfield Chase by Hans Zimmer
I Found by Amber Run
I Love You by Billie Eilish
Kannukulla by Sai Abhyankkar & Jonita Gandhi
Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift
Supernatural by Ariana Grande
The Night We Met by Lord Huron
The Only Exception by Paramore
Vizhi Veekura by Sai Abhyankkar & Sai Smriti
Where Have You Been by Rihanna
PROLOGUE
Luna
Time is an audacious thief. It is never timid or gentle with its power. It can be your friend when you want time to pass; wishing for the painful or embarrassing moments to be brief. Or it can be your enemy and speed up when you most want it to stretch; pulling the rug from under your feet. But on this day, I wish for the impossible – for it to be my frenemy.
A soft yet prominent voice calling my name pulls me away from the conversation I was having in the midst of the loud pub. The voice pierces through the chattering of the crowd beside me. My brain is playing tricks on me – being tipsy from a few drinks and not yet used to the change in the weather – because there isn’t a chance that I just heard this voice. Of course, I know whose voice it is; it is the sound that made up my most cherished and painful memories from my twenties. The voice that, from the first time I heard it, stayed with me. Even after I never heard it again from proximity, even when I was miles apart, years apart from the origin of the voice. I go back to the sentence that I had drifted away from.
A few minutes go by and a hand falls on my shoulder, the same voice calling my name again. This time, my body turns out of its volition. His touch is seared onto my skin; the memories rush back in full force. My eyes meet his and roam across his face, landing on his birthmarks and the crescent smile lines, to confirm that it’s him. Everyone else is muted and blurry and only he is in focus. My body is shivering; my heartbeat racing and my palms are covered in a layer of sweat. My legs weaken beneath me, and my entire vision is blurring rapidly – I am going to faint.
I let my body take me with it, and I fall to the ground. My eyes close automatically, but right before I hit the ground with a thud his arms wrap around my waist and soften my fall. ‘Luna, please wake up.’ Are the last words I hear before my consciousness slips and my thoughts travel back to seven years ago.
PART ONE
7 years ago
1
Luna
The cold steel of the flat door handle meets my palm as I push through the doors of the library room, quietly tucked away on the second floor of the university building. It is one of the best-kept secrets of mine. The room is rarely frequented by other students, which makes it my current favourite spot. It’s 9 PM on a Thursday, and I usually frequent the library at this time. The sparse footfall of students and the fact that I don’t have to make small talk with people work in my favour. I have been coming to the library even at night, to tackle the massive final year project that looms over my head.
The tower of books I am holding threatens to topple as I try to flip on the light switch with my pinkie finger. As soon as I flip the switch, the room illuminates with a fluorescent glow of the overhead light and brings to my attention the person standing near the window with their back turned towards me. My heart starts racing immediately as I let out a yell and drop the books that I am holding. This alerts the person who now turns towards me – a blonde curl in the front of his forehead swinging like a pendulum, his deep blue eyes widening against his ivory skin – and walks to where my books are now splayed on the floor in different directions.
We both quickly squat to pick up the books; his eyes roam over the titles, and he tilts his head ever so slightly. We both manage to get all the books off the ground, and he hands the rest to me. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,’ he says hesitantly.
‘It’s okay. I didn’t expect anyone to be here, especially with the lights turned off,’ I respond as I place the pile of books on the table.
‘I was trying to see the meteor shower happening today. I hoped that with the lights turned off-’
‘May 5th. It is the peak of the Eta Aquariids.’ I think out loud as it dawns on me that I haven’t thought about meteor showers for the past year, a tradition that has been part of my life since I was seven years old.
A smile paints his lips. ‘Yeah ... exactly.’ His eyebrows are slightly creased as if he is decoding something from my sentence.
My brain whirs off to its own train of thought. I have been actively avoiding thinking about meteor showers or stargazing until this moment. I can’t believe life is different now. I don’t want to believe it. I quickly push down the feelings that almost spill out of me. I glance back at the boy and he looks like he is expecting an answer from me. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’
‘I asked if you were an avid stargazer.’ He repeats the question.
‘Something like that,’ I reply unenthusiastically.
‘What made you interested in stargazing?’ he asks.
This question makes my throat burn with the tears that I push back down. If I stand here for one more second with this stranger who somehow knew exactly what to ask to make me face my emotions, I will break down. And I can’t afford to do that right now. Not with the amount of work that is pending for my project. ‘Sorry, I have to go now. I’ll leave you with this room.’ I turn towards the table to grab my books.
‘No, wait. You clearly had something important to do here. Let me get out of your way,’ he says and walks towards the door.
As the door slowly closes behind him, I stare at the place he stood mere seconds ago, wondering who he was and how I’ve never seen him in this room before.
2
Cooper
The girl with the soft brown eyes is the last thing I remember as I jolt awake from my dream. I can’t stop thinking about her since I saw her in the library. She had an allure, unlike most people. Something about her visiting the library in the dark hours, with a tower of books and knowledge of meteor showers, stirs intrigue in me. The same shadows that I carry lurk within her. It graced her face for a split second when I asked about the reason she is interested in stargazing. How have I not seen her before at the university? Maybe she doesn’t want to be seen. I see myself in her, someone who wants to be invisible to the world. Being visible means having attachments that are always at risk of being severed.
I try to put aside the thought of her for now and leave my bed to get ready for the day. I have about seventy per cent of my final painting left from my course to be completed. A major portion of my time goes into overthinking whether this is the best thing I can do. Nevertheless, I go through the motions of my morning routine and step into the kitchen. A plate lies on top of the kitchen table with a note beside it.
Good morning honey. Unfortunately, I got called into an emergency shift at the A&E, so I had to leave earlier. But I have made some sausage, eggs and toast for you. Please eat before you go. I will see you in the evening when I’m back. Love, Mum.
I lift the lid from the plate and there are two sausages, a sunny-side-up e gg and two pieces of toast. She knows exactly how I like it and made sure to have it timed so that it is warm as I come to eat breakfast.
It’s only been my Mum and me for the past eighteen years (since I was five). She never lets me feel like I am alone, but she does get called in for work at odd times and often. She is hardworking and takes her job as a medical worker seriously. She has never missed any of the important days, like my birthday and graduations. She tries her best. I could have moved out for my undergrad studies but I would be leaving her behind. And that didn’t feel right.
I polish off the breakfast, wash the plate, lock the door, and walk to university. On the way I remember that I need to get extra paint for my project. I make a detour to my usual art store that I work in on the weekends – to support them and earn money to save for my future.
The door dings as I push through it and nostalgia washes over me. I have been coming here since I was ten years old – it’s like a second home. I nod at Leo who is at the till, a brief smile on my face acknowledging him. I don’t see him often; he doesn’t work on the weekends, and I usually cover extra shifts on the days when he’s sick. The reason I love this store is that it has been a family-owned business for two decades, and they insist on keeping it that way in order to preserve the history of the store. They always have the best quality supplies. And the staff – Leo and his Dad – constantly make sure that the customers leave satisfied with their time spent inside. Leo’s Dad was kind enough to take me in as a part-time employee when things were hard at home for Mum.
I browse through the colours and find the exact burnt orange paint that I was looking for and take it to the till. ‘Just this for today, Leo.’
‘How’s your final project going?’ Leo asks enthusiastically, trying to engage in further conversation. Leo always has the brightest smile and an infectious joy. It warms my heart but I don’t bother getting too involved. I know how it ends and I don’t want to put myself in that position. I imagine us being friends sometimes but right now I do hope that Leo has good friends who treat him well.
‘It’s going good.’ I stick to a short but polite answer. I don’t want him to feel bad. His face falls a little but I don’t let it affect me. He quickly scans the paint tube and calls out the total. ‘That’ll be £11.50 please.’ I pay for it and thank him before leaving the store.
As I am about to walk into the building I spot someone at the corner of my vision. It’s the same wavy black hair from yesterday. I turn towards the side to confirm my suspicion that it’s the girl from the library as she stands near the truck that sells hot drinks. My brain prompts me to walk towards her but I fight it and imagine that my feet have turned to cement because I can’t be entirely sure if I want to risk getting to know her and ... But my curiosity gets the better of me and I walk towards her, hoping to get my question from yesterday answered.
3
Luna
The alarm blares into my ears and wakes me up at six in the morning. I blink a few times to clear my hazy vision and lift my hand in front of my face to hide the sunlight piercing through the windows in rays that feel as sharp as strings that I can pluck and create music with. My textbooks are open and strewn about on the table which leads me to realise that I had slipped into slumber while working on the research for my report. I worked for a few hours after the blonde guy had left, after which I’m guessing my eyes couldn’t hold open anymore. But it’s okay, I set an alarm beforehand. Even if I did accidentally fall asleep, I won’t waste too much time sleeping.
I quickly text my Mum letting her know that I am still in the library. I don’t want her to worry about my whereabouts, although I did mention yesterday that I would be here late. She would have preferred for me to study at home but I cannot concentrate in my room, which is right next to his room. I get out of the library to get some fresh air and bask in the sunlight properly. I smile automatically; all it takes is a few minutes outside four walls to appreciate the beauty of nature. I spot a truck near the entrance that sells hot drinks, and it would be amazing to start my day with my usual beverage – hot chocolate. It might not be the healthiest choice, but it is the most comforting drink to start the usual chilly London mornings with.
I grab the drink from the barista and thank her, and immediately hold the cup right in front of my nose to inhale the sweet chocolatey smell. The smell wakes me up for the morning, and a soft hum slips out of me as I sip the steaming drink. I take a few steps backwards with my eyes closed, enjoying the taste of the drink, but I slam into something hard and lose my balance. The drink slips out of my hand, and I fall backwards until someone catches me in time to prevent the back of my head from meeting the ground.
I peek out of my eyes to inspect the damage caused, but the same deep blue eyes from yesterday stare at me from above. I briskly stand up, smoothing the creases on my dress. ‘Umm ... Thank you,’ I mumble out of embarrassment.
‘That’s okay. We meet yet again, stranger,’ he says, his hands flailing around, him not knowing whether to put them in his pockets or not.
‘I suppose that’s possible since we study in the same university,’ I respond, equally awkward.
‘You never really answered my question yesterday.’
My hot chocolate is now a sad-looking puddle on the ground. ‘What was the question?’
‘What made you interested in stargazing?’ He sounds genuinely curious.
I would be lying to myself if I said that I wasn’t curious about how his interest came upon either, because it wasn’t often that I ran into another stargazer. But my unfinished research lies open in the library room, and the break in my routine caused by the hot chocolate puddle sends alarms in my head. Telling this stranger about my interest in stargazing would open the Pandora’s box of feelings that I have carefully taped shut. It is also nagging me how he keeps asking about it. ‘Umm, I ... I’m sorry to crash into you. I have to go.’
‘No, please wait. I’m sorry if I overstepped. Let me make it up to you by replacing your drink.’
I would have normally said no, but I wouldn’t mind having my routine fixed. I nod.
Once I get the drink, we walk in tandem, but a silence hangs between us, no one wanting to break it. As we reach the room where my things still are, we turn to face each other. ‘Well, thanks for the drink ...’ I pause, hoping he prompts me with his name.
‘Ah. Cooper. My name is Cooper Murphy. Nice to meet you ...’ He extends a hand to me and waits in turn for me to respond with my name.
I return the handshake. ‘I am Luna Vikram. Nice to meet you, too, Cooper.’
Awkwardness fills the space between us. ‘Soo, I still have some things to get back to,’ I say, nodding towards the room.
‘Yeah, of course,’ Cooper responds.
‘I’ll see you around,’ I say as I push through the door.
‘See you soon, hopefully.’
I catch the smile on his face. The end of his sentence sends a tingle through me, but I smile back at him as I step into the room. Before the door closes behind me, he props it open with the tip of his shoe and says, ‘Oh, and all the best for your aerospace project.’ He lets go of the door before waiting for my response, and I am left to stare at the door. I never told him what I was studying.
4
Luna
The sun shines brighter this morning in Kingston upon Thames as the days slip further into May. I walk alongside Mum while doing our bi-weekly shopping in the market, where they always have the freshest and best-tasting fruits and vegetables. Additionally, the mouthwatering smells emanating from the different stalls don’t hurt to be around often. And Mum always insists on shopping here to support local vendors and also to have some quality mother-daughter time, which I look forward to more since Apollo died. She is doing better than she was a year ago, when everything was raw and stinging, and I’m glad she and Appa have been keeping each other strong.
‘How’s your project going, muffin?’ she asks as she picks a tomato and holds it to her eye level to inspect it better.
