The sun bathes the garden in a warm, golden light. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the towering oak trees that surround the garden, creating a soothing, melodic whisper. The garden is a paradise of colors and scents.
In the center, a magnificent fountain crafted from shimmering white marble stands, its water spouting gracefully into a pool adorned with lilies. The crystal-clear water reflects the azure sky overhead.
A winding cobblestone path, flanked by meticulously manicured hedges, leads deeper into the garden. Along the path, an array of beautiful flowers bloom in a riot of colors.
Scarlet roses climb trellises, their petals velvety and fragrant. Vibrant tulips dance in the breeze, their petals like a painter's palette of reds, purples, and yellows. Delicate orchids sway gracefully, their ethereal beauty captivating any who pass by.
Butterflies flit from flower to flower, adding a vibrant splash of color to the scene. Bees hum as they collect nectar, adding their own harmonious melody to the garden's symphony.
A wrought-iron bench, adorned with intricate patterns, offers a tranquil spot for visitors to sit and immerse themselves in the garden's splendor. Nearby, a small gazebo draped in climbing wisteria provides shade and a serene retreat.
As the scene unfolds, it's impossible not to be captivated by the garden's sheer beauty and the sense of serenity it imparts. This garden is a testament to the wonders of nature's artistry.
And in that artistry, like beautiful small strokes, two people walk within this garden. A woman with blonde hair in a wheelchair seems to be lost in the beauty of this garden as she gazes around, the surroundings resembling a dream, ethereal and heavenly.
"Lisia, I hope we will come here after you heal," the man says, his eyes focused on her face with warmth. The woman feels a pang of pain upon hearing these words, looking towards the man, his presence adding to the dreamlike quality of the moment.
He gently pushes the wheelchair, guiding her along the cobblestone path. They stroll through this oasis of nature's wonders, exploring every hidden nook and cranny. The fragrance of blooming flowers follows them, intoxicating the air.
The woman's eyes sparkle with delight as she takes in the vivid hues and delicate petals. The colors seem to come alive, painting a portrait of happiness in her heart. Every flower whispers hope and healing to her soul.
The man narrates stories of the garden, infusing each word with love and hope. They sit on the wrought-iron bench, as man put his suit jacket on her shoulders making her look at him in bewilderment and her find filled with hope that if this is a dream then she will never wake up.
As the day turns into evening, they stand together, gazing at the darkening sky. Suddenly, a burst of firecrackers adorns the night, painting it with vibrant hues and sounds, much like the garden they just experienced.
And in that moment, it's not just the sky that lights up; the woman's heart, too, felt warmth as she saw those colored lights making their way to her heart.
She glanced at the figure of a man standing beside her, his obsidian eyes reflecting the colors in the sky, and his hair as dark as the night itself.
She had only one wish at that moment: never to wake up from this dream, or if she did, to meet him even in her next life. She prayed to the god she believed in.
"Lisia, do you feel cold?" the man asked, looking at the woman, who slightly folded her hands together and placed them near her mouth as she prayed. For the man, who already had lost his hopes on that being, it seemed like she was shivering from the cold.
"N-no, I—" Before the woman could say anything, the man took her in his embrace and put her head on his chest, which felt warm to the woman. Her face slightly turned red as she clenched the man's shirt, leaning against it and taking a small breath that carried the scent of the man with it, making her feel irresistible.
"Haha, if you want, I could make a perfume out of my scent." The woman's face that was pale turned as red as a tomato. She hid her head in the man's chest, feeling him wrap his arms around her back. He repeated the words that made things difficult for the woman, "Please live, Lisia. Not just for more, just for this week, for me. Please."
The woman was once again forced to confront what made her feel weak. She couldn't even promise him that she would live. Her body, though healing with the prescribed medicines, seemed hell-bent on taking away her happy moments.
But she didn't want to part ways with this man. Even if it was a dream, she would struggle, she would live, and see another day, only for this man. A small tear slid down her face.
"Hey, now you're not even going to answer," the man said, holding her face with both hands. He saw a tear escaping her eyes, and his heart ached. Not because he held love for this woman, but because of the similarity she had with the one whom he cherished like no one else would have. He leaned in, repeating what he had done for her beloved.
The woman felt gentle lips touching her cheeks and a wet tongue sipping the drop of tear. She opened her eyes, closed to hide her weakness, and saw the obsidian eyes looking at her.
The faint scent of the man, the gentle yet warm touch of his lips erasing her tears, filled her with the care and warmth she longed for. She had decided; even if this dream broke, even if she never met this man again, she would go through anything to achieve him.
Even if she had to be reborn many times, her love for this man had crossed the line of what one felt towards their salvation. He was now more than her salvation. Both people's breaths intertwined, and they could feel and hear each other's breathing. The man retreated, making the woman feel a slight ache.
"Now, it looks good. Tears didn't fit with eyes that want to live and look at the world," he remarked, his warm smile reaching her heart.
The silence around them was accompanied by the soft sound of the breeze as the wind gently passed.
They both could feel their heartbeats synchronizing, a gentle, rhythmic *badump* *badump*, as if becoming one.
The woman seemed to try to say something, her lips pursed before she looked slightly down, whispering but loud enough for the man to hear in that beautiful, gentle, and silent night, the same words, yet slightly different.
"I... will try."
