The rooftop garden had become their quiet sanctuary, a place where the world's noise faded and only the soft rhythm of their shared breaths remained. Liora sat beside Mara, the worn book resting between them, its pages now dog-eared from countless readings.
Tonight, the air was cooler, and the scent of damp earth mingled with faint traces of jasmine. The city's distant lights flickered below like scattered stars, but here, in this fragile space, time seemed to pause.
Liora looked at Mara, noticing the way her eyes caught the light — bright, yet shadowed with secrets. It was a look that invited questions but also warned of boundaries not yet ready to be crossed.
"I feel like I'm learning a new language," Liora said softly. "One made of silence and small moments."
Mara smiled, a gentle curve that warmed the space between them. "The language of flowers teaches us more than words ever could. It's about understanding what's left unsaid, the things we're too afraid or unsure to say out loud."
Liora nodded. "I've been carrying so many words inside me — things I never dared to voice. Sometimes it feels like they weigh me down."
Mara reached out, her fingers brushing lightly over Liora's hand, a silent comfort. "Words have weight, but they can also set us free. The hardest part is finding someone who's willing to listen."
Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world beyond the rooftop disappeared. There was only the space between them, filled with possibilities and quiet yearning.
"Do you ever regret things left unsaid?" Liora asked, her voice trembling.
Mara hesitated, then shook her head slowly. "No. I believe every silence has its reason. Sometimes, we need to hold back until we're ready — until we find the right moment, or the right person."
Liora's heart ached at the thought. She wondered if she had found that person, if Mara was the one who could finally understand the language she had long hidden inside.
The night stretched on, the cool breeze wrapping around them like a soft whisper. Mara's hand found Liora's again, fingers intertwining naturally, grounding and sure.
In that quiet connection, Liora felt a flicker of hope — fragile but fierce.
She didn't know what the future held, but for the first time in a long while, she was willing to find out.