The Silent Song of Roses
The garden held its breath.
A breeze moved gently through the air—soft and cool—like it was brushing past with a secret it couldn't quite say. It caught in the silver strands of Sona's hair, lifting them for a moment before letting them fall again. The trees swayed slowly, their leaves rustling with the hush of distant thoughts. The scent of roses filled the air—sweet, heavy, romantic. Almost too much to take in.
Between Leon and Sona, silence stretched long. Not tense. Not cold. Just fragile. Like spun glass.
Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. It was the kind of silence that said everything without needing to say a thing.
Only the breeze and the soft sound of water trickling from a nearby fountain touched the space between them.
Leon stood still behind her. Quiet. Watching.
She didn't turn around. Her hand hovered over a rose, fingers barely brushing the soft edge—like even beauty could hurt if you touched it wrong.
