Morning did not rush.
It unfolded.
Slowly… gently… like a page being turned with care.
The hidden garden remained quiet, untouched by the louder parts of the palace. Soft golden light filtered through silver-leaved trees, scattering across the ground in delicate patterns. The air carried a faint floral sweetness, mixed with something cooler—like dew resting on petals before disappearing.
Aerion and Nyxaria stood there.
Close.
Not touching anymore.
But not far either.
That moment—the accidental brush of their hands—still lingered between them like something unfinished.
Nyxaria looked down at her fingers.
Then back at him.
"…That happened in the story," she said softly.
Aerion nodded.
"…Yeah."
A pause.
"…So what happens next?" she asked.
Aerion smiled slightly.
"…You really want to follow the story exactly?"
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
"…Yes."
There was no hesitation in her answer this time.
No shyness.
Just quiet determination.
Aerion looked at her for a moment longer… then turned.
"Alright," he said.
"…Then we'll do it properly."
• First Scene
In the novel, the next part had been simple.
Almost meaningless at first glance.
The boy and the girl walked.
No destination.
No urgency.
Just… walking together.
Aerion started moving slowly through the garden paths.
Nyxaria followed.
At first, there was a small distance between them.
Not intentional.
Just… habit.
She wasn't used to walking beside someone.
But gradually—
Without either of them noticing—
That distance shrank.
Their steps aligned.
The rhythm of their movement synced.
Silence filled the space between them.
But it wasn't empty.
It was… comfortable.
Nyxaria glanced at him once.
"…In the story," she said, "they didn't talk much here."
Aerion nodded.
"…Yeah."
"…Why?"
He thought for a second.
"…Because sometimes silence feels better than words."
She looked ahead again.
"…I think I understand that."
And for a while—
They said nothing.
• Second Scene
The garden opened into a small resting space.
A stone bench curved beneath a tree whose leaves shimmered like liquid silver. Small glowing fruits hung from its branches, their light soft and inviting.
Aerion stopped.
Reached up.
Plucked one.
He looked at it briefly, then offered it to her.
"…Here."
Nyxaria blinked.
"…What is it?"
"No idea," he said honestly. "But it looks safe."
She stared at it for a moment.
Then—
Slowly—
She reached out.
Their fingers brushed again.
Softer this time.
Less accidental.
She took the fruit.
Held it carefully.
"…In the story," she whispered, "this is where the girl hesitates."
Aerion leaned lightly against the tree.
"…And?"
"…She's not used to taking things from someone."
He watched her.
"…And you?"
Nyxaria looked at the fruit in her hand.
Then—
She took a small bite.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"…It's sweet," she said.
Aerion smiled faintly.
"…Good."
She looked at him again.
"…Thank you."
And this time—
She didn't hesitate when she said it.
• Third Scene
It wasn't in the story exactly like this.
But it was close enough.
Nyxaria tried to pluck another fruit on her own.
She reached.
Missed.
Tried again.
Still missed.
Aerion watched quietly for a second.
Then stepped closer.
"…You're aiming wrong."
"I'm not," she said softly.
"You are."
"I'm not."
"…You are."
She frowned slightly.
"…Then show me."
He reached up easily and grabbed one.
"…Like this."
She stared at him.
Then at the fruit.
Then back at him.
"…That's unfair."
"Why?"
"You're taller."
He paused.
"…That's not unfair."
"It is."
"…It's biology."
She didn't respond.
Just looked at him.
Then—
Very softly—
She laughed.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't dramatic.
It was small.
Quiet.
But real.
Aerion froze for half a second.
"…You just laughed."
Nyxaria blinked.
"…Did I?"
"…Yeah."
She looked slightly confused.
"…I don't usually do that."
"…You should," he said.
A pause.
Then—
"…I'll try."
• Fourth Scene
They returned to the bench.
Sat down.
Not too far apart.
Not too close.
At first.
But as time passed—
That distance shifted again.
Nyxaria leaned slightly closer.
Not intentionally.
Just naturally.
Her shoulder brushed his.
Lightly.
She froze.
"…In the story…" she whispered.
"…Yeah," Aerion said quietly.
"…This is where she realizes she's not uncomfortable."
A pause.
"…Are you?" he asked.
Nyxaria shook her head slowly.
"…No."
Her voice was soft.
But certain.
So she didn't move away.
Neither did he.
• Fifth Scene
This part—
This part mattered.
In the novel, it was the moment everything began to change.
The girl stopped looking away.
She stopped hiding.
She looked at the boy directly.
Not as an observer.
But as someone… present.
Nyxaria turned her head slowly.
Her eyes met his.
And this time—
She didn't look away.
No hesitation.
No retreat.
Just… quiet courage.
Aerion held her gaze.
"…You're doing it," he said softly.
"…Doing what?"
"…Not hiding."
A faint breath left her lips.
"…It feels… different."
"Good or bad?"
She thought for a moment.
"…Good."
A pause.
"…Scary."
He nodded.
"…That means it's real."
• Sixth Scene
Time passed.
Slowly.
Quietly.
The sun shifted higher in the sky.
Light changed.
Shadows moved.
But neither of them left.
At some point—
Without realizing it—
They were closer than before.
Much closer.
Nyxaria's hand rested beside his.
Barely a gap between them.
Her breathing slowed.
"…In the story…" she whispered again.
"…This is where something almost happens."
Aerion didn't move.
"…Almost?"
She nodded.
"…But it doesn't."
"…Why not?"
Her voice dropped even softer.
"…Because the girl gets scared."
Silence.
Then—
Aerion turned slightly.
"…And you?"
Nyxaria's fingers trembled slightly.
"…I don't know."
A long pause.
The air between them grew heavier.
Warmer.
Closer.
Then—
She pulled her hand back.
Not suddenly.
Not dramatically.
Just… gently.
"…Not yet," she whispered.
Aerion nodded.
"…Yeah."
• Seventh Scene
The sun began to set.
Golden light turned softer.
Warmer.
The garden shifted again—morning brightness fading into evening calm.
Nyxaria stood.
Slowly.
"…This was the whole chapter," she said.
Aerion stood too.
"…Yeah."
"…We followed everything."
"…Almost everything."
She looked at him.
"…What didn't we follow?"
Aerion smiled slightly.
"…The ending."
A pause.
"…What happens in the ending?"
He looked at her.
"…You'll find out."
She held his gaze for a moment longer.
Then—
For the first time—
She smiled.
Not faint.
Not hidden.
A real smile.
"…Then I'll wait."
And as the last light of the day faded into soft twilight—
They stood there together.
Not as strangers.
Not as observer and subject.
But as two people…
Walking through a story that was no longer just words.