The expanse of empty beauty around us was silent, timeless. It was a realm suspended in thought and memory, as though the universe itself had paused to grant us this fleeting moment together.
I lay on my back, my head resting on Eve's lap, her floating hands moving gently above me. They swayed with an almost maternal grace—one hand brushing stray strands of hair from my face, another resting lightly against my shoulder, and a third tracing idle patterns in the still air.
My chest still felt heavy from the weight of Eve's revelation, but the sting of my earlier outburst had begun to fade. Tears had dried on my cheeks, leaving behind a raw, aching vulnerability that I wasn't accustomed to showing.
"You know," I murmured, breaking the silence, "You've made me cry twice now."
Eve tilted her head, her serene expression flickering with playful curiosity. "Twice?" she echoed, her voice carrying a note of feigned innocence.
