Daniel and Diana walked back to the bench, a lingering sense of closeness from their talk following them. They sat down, the wood creaking slightly beneath their weight. The park was calm, the warm noon light casting soft shadows around them. Daniel leaned back, glancing sideways at Diana.
"Can I ask you something?" he said quietly, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his shirt.
Diana looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Sure, what's up?"
"How do you feel?" he asked, his voice almost hesitant. "You know, about all this. I know you said you're still me, but now you're… you."
Diana let out a small, thoughtful sigh. "Well, at first, I felt like nothing really changed, you know?" She shrugged lightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I mean, we didn't have many connections to begin with, and the only people who we knew were Mom and Aiden."
Daniel nodded slowly, his eyes focused on her, listening intently.
"But then," Diana continued, glancing down at herself, "I started noticing all these differences." She paused, then gestured vaguely towards her chest, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "I mean, I've got these now." She let out a small, awkward laugh. "And, well, I'm missing that."
Daniel's face turned a deep shade of red, and he coughed, his eyes darting away. "Uh, yeah. That's… different."
"Definitely," Diana said, her smile fading as she looked out at the park, her gaze distant. "But honestly, it didn't change my life that much. I thought it would, but… we were already so isolated, you know? So, in a weird way, it almost felt like nothing really changed."
Daniel frowned, his brow furrowing slightly. "Almost?"
Diana nodded, her fingers tracing random patterns on the bench. "Yeah. I mean, maybe it's a bit more than that. There's this… disconnect, I guess." She sighed, leaning back and looking up at the sky. "It's weird. When I look in the mirror, I don't see myself. It's like… I'm a stranger in my own skin."
Daniel stayed silent, letting her words sink in. He couldn't imagine what it must feel like to not recognize yourself. It was already hard enough trying to figure out who he was on the inside, but to be in a completely different body...
She turned to him, her eyes softening. "It's scary, you know? We've never really known who we are, and now it's even more confusing."
He nodded slowly, his throat tight. "I guess I never thought about it like that."
"Yeah, it's not something you can really prepare for," Diana said, a wry smile on her lips. "But honestly, even with all of that, I feel… better." She looked at him, her eyes searching his. "Because we're sharing this. You know me, and I know you. It's like I'm not alone in this weird, new existence."
Daniel's heart ached at her words. He'd spent so long feeling like he was carrying everything on his own shoulders, but now, hearing her say this, he realized just how much he needed her too. "I'm glad you feel that way," he murmured.
Diana smiled softly, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. "And you're here for me, right?" she asked, her tone light but her eyes serious.
Daniel squeezed her hand back, nodding. "Yeah, always."
"That's why I'm okay," she said, her smile widening, a gentle, relieved expression spreading across her face. "As long as I have you, I think I can handle whatever comes next."
Daniel felt a sudden warmth bloom in his chest, spreading through him like a gentle wave. His heart, which had been so tight and heavy just moments ago, seemed to loosen. The sensation was almost overwhelming, and he realized his hands were trembling slightly. He glanced down at them, still clasped around Diana's, feeling an unexpected sense of fragility, like he might let go if he wasn't careful.
His throat tightened, but not with the usual anxiety or fear. It was something else, something softer. His fingers felt weak, almost like they'd forgotten how to hold on, but he didn't want to let go. Not now. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, the air cool against his flushed face.
Looking at Diana, he saw her smiling gently at him, her eyes filled with a quiet certainty that made his chest tighten even more. He didn't know how to put it into words—how much it meant to hear her say that, to know she felt the same strange, complicated comfort he did. The words she'd said echoed in his mind: "As long as I have you…"
He swallowed hard, feeling like his voice might crack if he tried to speak. So he just nodded, squeezing her hand a little tighter. Because in that moment, with the sun casting soft shadows around them and her hand warm in his,
He started to believe.