Morning came softly, brushing the city in pale gold and gentle warmth. The rooftop garden stirred awake with the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of early traffic. Liora and Mara sat wrapped in quiet companionship, the weight of the night's confessions still lingering in the air.
For the first time in a long while, Liora felt something tender unfurling inside her—a fragile hope she wasn't sure she was ready to name, but couldn't deny.
Mara's eyes met hers, clear and steady, and in that gaze, Liora found a sanctuary from the world's noise.
"You're different in the morning light," Mara said softly, a smile touching her lips. "More real. More... open."
Liora chuckled, a soft sound filled with a mix of embarrassment and warmth. "Maybe it's the lack of shadows."
Mara's smile deepened, and she reached out, fingers brushing gently against Liora's hand. "I want to know everything—your stories, your fears, your dreams. Even the parts you think no one wants to hear."
Liora's throat tightened, but she nodded. "I want that too. But it scares me."
"Scary is okay," Mara said, her voice a steady anchor. "It means it matters."
They sat side by side as the city around them came alive, two people beginning to weave their stories together—delicately, carefully, and with a quiet promise to face whatever came next.
The language of goodbye had brought them here, but maybe, just maybe, it was also the language of first light—of new beginnings and b
rave hearts.
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