"We need to talk." Lia sits on her bed, next to the near-paralysed Myles.
"You think?" Myles is still upset with her for her response to Terrene's proposal. "You—" but the sight of a teary-eyed, frustrated Lia stops him.
"I'm tired, Myles. I can't..." She grabs his hand, "Watch anyone make moves on you anymore. I want to be secure."
"Anymore? What is she talking about?" Her statement has confused him.
Myles thinks the worst is about to happen; his eyes grow glassy, his muscles tighten. "Usually when this happens..."
Lia slips off his black ring, interrupting his thoughts, staring at his hand. Myles' heart drops. Then, her trembling voice breaks the silence.
"Myles, will you marry me?"
She doesn't want to ask him like this. It's supposed to be romantic, not desperate. But here she is, looking at him expectantly, hoping he won't refuse her—and with good reason. The thumps of her heart resonate through her body, her forehead glistening under the soft rays of the sun cutting through the heavy curtains.
A single tear falls from Myles' left eye. He slides his ring finger back into the ring and pulls her into a kiss.
"I'm sorry," he whispers as he pulls away, bringing her ring along with him. "We can't get married."
Her breath stops in that moment, her neck tenses as she struggles to understand. Myles' eyes, however, are still full of love.
"Not yet."
He pulls himself out of bed and kneels on the floor, looking up at her. She looks down reluctantly, expecting heartbreak. Tears well in her eyes.
"I... would love nothing more than to be your husband, to spend the rest of the days I draw breath by your side..."
"But?" she laughs wryly. "Sounds like there's a but."
"Listen, I'm not saying no. I just don't think you or I are ready for marriage." He looks up at her face, the tears breaking his heart. "But I can promise you right now that I am yours." He lifts his hand, showing her his ring finger. "Let this be proof of that."
Taking her left hand gently, he asks, "Will you wait with me?"
She slowly nods, tears still falling, and he hugs her.
"Look, I know emotions are running high right now, but I think we need to talk about what happened earlier."
She stands, turning away as if trying to avoid the conversation. But then her gaze falls to the ring. She massages it thoughtfully, lost in what it means.
"Did you see her smile?" she pauses. "I don't know how much courage it took to ask… it was beautiful." She turns to face him. "You know, I had never seen it before."
Myles takes a deep breath. "I don't know why I did that, but even if it hurts, I'm not taking it back."
A small smile creeps across his face. "Wait… are you jealous?"
Caught off guard by the question, Lia's expression gives Myles all the answers he needs. "Now, what exactly would a goddess like you need to be jealous about?" he teases.
"Myles…" she warns in a small whisper.
"No, educate me. Do you not think I love you enough?"
"Myles, please."
"Lia, communication is important in relationships."
She holds her head, drawing in a deep breath. "I'm insecure about my body sometimes." She bites her lip as the words slip out, unable to lift her gaze, shame pulling her eyes to the floor.
His hands appear with a gentle touch beneath her chin, lifting her head to face him. His eyes, filled with deep love and passion, meet hers. "Hey, I don't know about other guys, but I'd pick toned muscles and a tall frame over soft and delicate any day."
Lia laughs. "Ugh, why are you like this?" She presses his palms against his own face and gently pushes him away, cheeks flushed. "I can't even hate my body."
Myles laughs, holding her hand. "You can hate your body all you want, but I'm going to love the hell out of it."
"Yes, yes, yes." She rolls her eyes with a content smile. "The thing is..." the smile disappears. "I want to see more of it."
"More of what?"
"Her smile, Myles."
"Oh." His expression changes with realisation. "Why should I care, though?" A small trace of anger creeps into his voice as he turns away from her gaze.
She gently places her hand on his cheek. "It would make me happy."
He sits down with a big sigh. "Well, if you put it like that."
"You'll only be her friend," she tugs his collar seductively. "Remember, you are mine."
Elsewhere…
"Tema, did you see that?"
Terrene stops abruptly, her blissful smile shattering into nothing. Her body stiffens, as if her whole being just collided with a thought too heavy to bear.
A low murmur coils from within her ribs, vibrating through her lungs. "What are you even talking about?"
She exhales sharply, forcing his presence forward. An eye blooms in her palm, slick and unblinking, tethered to the voice inside. Tema never shows himself openly in crowded places—he prefers the safety of her body, hidden in her bones, her breath, her shadow. But Terrene won't let him hide this time. Her expression, usually so carefully locked away, leaks raw distress.
"Is this really okay?" Her head tilts toward the eye, the faint violet glow behind her sealed eyelids flaring brighter, as if to prove she doesn't need them open to see the world—or him. Tema knows this, but still, it unsettles him. He often forgets how her sight works, even while living inside her skin.
"Tema." The way she says his name—sharp, low, commanding—cuts through his wandering thoughts like a blade.
For a moment, silence. Then, laughter ripples through her chest from the inside, dark and curling like smoke. "Terrene, the humans had a phrase for this sort of thing… 'All is fair in love and war.'"
Her lips part, a flicker of shock flashing across her face. The words burrow under her skin.
"It doesn't matter," Tema presses, his voice thrumming beneath her heartbeat. The eye in her palm narrows, almost smirking. "They aren't married yet. So…" his tone softens to a whisper inside her skull, intimate, invasive. "Do with that what you will."
His eye disappears, leaving only emptiness in her palm. Terrene stands there staring at it, hollow and silent.
"Hey, Terrene?" A familiar voice calls from behind as a gentle hand settles on her shoulder. In one swift movement, she turns and buries herself in her elder sister Rai's embrace.
"Are you… crying?" Rai's voice carries disbelief and shock. Terrene pulls back almost immediately, brushing at her face with a dismissive hand, though the sniffles betray her. A fragile smile flickers across her lips. To Rai, the sight is strangely endearing—a moment she instinctively treasures. With warmth in her chest, she guides the new crybaby back to her room.
Minutes pass, filled with muffled sniffles and fragments of words that never quite form into sentences. Terrene rests in Rai's lap, but the weight of it all finally makes Rai sigh.
"Terrene, please talk to me," she says softly, coaxing her sister upright by the shoulders. "Why are you crying?"
The truth is, Terrene doesn't know. No answer comes, so she tells Rai everything—about the unease, about the conversation with Tema. Only, in her retelling, Tema is not an entity but her subconscious whispering from within.
Rai listens quietly, then chuckles under her breath. "Oh, is that all?" she teases gently. "Terrene, you do realise my mother—though long dead—was married to our father at the same time as Mum, right?"
Terrene blinks, her mind stalling. It takes a moment before she processes the words. "Yes… It's not pretty, but it worked for them, didn't it?"
Her nearly opened eyes betray her shock. The thought unsettles her more than she expected.
Rai only smiles, brushing a tear from her sister's cheek. "I think at this 'friendly' date," she says with a teasing lilt, "you should ask him."