The world fades to a white noise that blurs at the edges, a hazy and insignificant film. Here, where the breeze carries the scent of salt and the sweetness of a summer afternoon, only one thing remains: the invisible force that pulls me toward her.
Her fingers intertwine with mine as we gaze at the deep blue of the sky. A single gleam is enough to confirm her eternal presence. When I turn my head, I find her: sunlight wraps her in a golden halo, transforming her into a silhouette carved from the very firmament.
Her laughter reverberates through the air, a light and crystalline echo, like the whisper of waves, making me feel as if I'm walking on ethereal clouds.
"Look at it, Rose," she says. Her voice has a soft texture. "The sky today looks endless."
She reaches out and wraps her hand around mine. Her fingers are warm, a steady temperature that anchors me to the earth. I feel her pulse against my palm, a frantic and vital rhythm that seems to say: I'm here, I'm here, I'm here. I surrender to that touch. It's the only truth I recognize.
"Sometimes it scares me," I whisper, without looking away from her shadow. "I feel like, if I blink, all this blue will spill over and I'll drown in it."
She leans toward me. I can smell her—a sweet scent, like vanilla. Her closeness is an electric pressure that makes my skin prickle. There are no cameras, no crowds, no uncertain tomorrow. Only this moment stretching infinitely, as if time itself had decided to grant us a truce.
"Then let's do something," she says, and her tone turns suddenly serious, almost solemn. "Let's make a promise. Right here, beneath this sky that watches over us."
"A promise?" My voice feels small, vulnerable.
She murmurs something in my ear, a gift wrapped in melody that I long to repeat forever.
"I promise you," I reply, and the words feel like a seal etched into my soul.
She squeezes my hand tighter, and for a second, the brightness of the sun intensifies until it blinds me.