The days that followed their first meeting were strange for Aiden.
He tried to convince himself that what happened by the lake had been a dream — that the silver-haired girl who spoke to water couldn't possibly be real. But every night, when the stars shimmered over Eloria, he found himself drawn back to that same lake, as though something unseen was gently pulling him there.
And each time, she was waiting.
Her name was Lyra.
A name that felt like music when spoken aloud.
She told him that she came from the Moonlight Sanctuary, a hidden place deep within the Veiled Forest — a sanctuary for those who could hear the whispers of nature. She spoke of rivers that sang, trees that remembered, and winds that carried secrets of the stars. Aiden had grown up in a quiet human village where magic was nothing but rumor. Hearing her stories was like listening to poetry made real.
He listened more than he spoke. He always did. But she seemed to enjoy that — as if his silence gave her room to breathe.
Sometimes, she would sit by the lake and let her fingers brush the water. The ripples would form shapes — flowers, birds, and lights that shimmered like tiny spirits. And Aiden, sitting beside her, would simply watch. He didn't dare to interrupt beauty like that.
---
One evening, as twilight wrapped the sky in violet and gold, Aiden brought her something — a small woven bracelet made from wildgrass and blue petals.
"It's nothing special," he said, scratching the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Just thought… maybe you'd like it."
Lyra looked at it, her violet eyes soft with surprise. "You made this?"
He nodded, his cheeks faintly red. "My mother used to make these for me when I was a kid. She said they bring luck."
Lyra smiled — that same bright, gentle smile that always hit him like sunlight. "Then I'll treasure it."
She tied it carefully around her wrist. When she looked up, Aiden thought he saw the faintest glow around her — like the lake's reflection had found a home in her heart.
"Thank you, Aiden," she said softly. "You always bring calm with you."
---
From that night on, they met almost every evening. Sometimes they talked about the stars. Sometimes they shared stories of old heroes and mythical lands. Sometimes, they said nothing at all — just sat side by side, their reflections touching in the lake's still water.
But the more he knew her, the more Aiden realized something painful — Lyra was not like him.
There was a distance between them that no closeness could erase. She moved like someone who belonged to another world — graceful, fleeting, untouchable. Even her laughter sounded like something meant to disappear.
And every time she looked up at the moon, he saw something wistful in her eyes. A memory. A longing.
Once, he asked gently, "What do you see when you look at the moon like that?"
She hesitated. Then whispered, "Someone I lost."
Her words fell like rain into his heart. He wanted to ask who it was, but her gaze told him not to. Some wounds weren't meant to be touched.
So he just said, "Whoever it is… I hope they knew how lucky they were."
She smiled faintly. "Maybe they did. Maybe that's why it hurts."
---
That night, when Aiden walked home under the stars, he realized something terrifying and beautiful — he was falling in love with her. Not the kind of love born from passion or desire, but something deeper.
Something that lived in quiet moments. In shared silences. In the way her voice lingered in the air after she spoke.
He knew she didn't feel the same.
He knew she was still looking at someone beyond the moon.
And still… he couldn't stop his heart.
---
As the wind carried petals from the starpetal trees, Aiden closed his eyes and made a silent wish — that even if his love was never returned, he could stay beside her a little longer.
Because sometimes, loving someone wasn't about being chosen.
It was about choosing them — even when you knew they never would.