The silence between us was no longer heavy with the weight of time but alive with possibility, each heartbeat echoing in sync with the vast, luminous sky above. As we sat there, your arm wrapped around me, the cool breeze carried whispers of the past and promises for the future.
"Do you think the stars tell stories?" you asked, your voice soft, almost hesitant.
I tilted my head to look at you, your profile glowing in the moonlight. "I think they tell ours," I said, a small smile tugging at my lips.
You laughed gently, the sound wrapping around me like a familiar melody. "Then maybe they'll guide us to what's next."
The words hung in the air, stirring something deep within me. For so long, I had feared the unknown—feared what the stars might reveal. But now, with you beside me, the uncertainty didn't feel daunting. It felt beautiful.
We lay back against the grass, the world shrinking to just the two of us and the endless sky above. The constellations shimmered, each one pulsing like a heartbeat. Slowly, the stars began to move again, their patterns shifting into something new.
"Do you see that?" you asked, pointing to a constellation forming just above us.
I nodded, watching as the stars wove into the shape of an open door, its light spilling out into the infinite darkness. It felt like an invitation, a reminder that our journey was far from over.
"What do you think it means?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
You turned to me, your eyes filled with that familiar, unshakable certainty. "That it's time for us to create something new—together."