The sun had begun to dip behind the barren mountains of Sahana, painting the sky in muted shades of orange and pink that stretched over the vast landscape like a quiet promise of peace. The cold wind carried with it the scent of dry earth and wild grass, brushing through the narrow streets where Reyan walked beside Liora. His steps were slower now, weighed down not just by the chill but by memories long buried beneath layers of silence.
They had just left the small hospital where Reyan had been discharged earlier that afternoon. His face still looked pale, the shadows under his eyes deepened by sleepless nights and whispered fears. Liora's heart clenched as she watched him walk toward his home—a lonely, gray structure standing against the fading light like a forgotten sentinel.
"This is where you live?" she asked softly, trying to keep her voice steady despite the ache that welled up inside her.
Reyan nodded, his eyes fixed on the cracked wooden door. "Yeah. Not much of a home, is it?"
Liora shook her head, stepping beside him. "It's more than just walls. It's a place with your memories."
He glanced at her, and for a moment, something vulnerable flickered in his gaze. "Memories don't always make a place home," he murmured.
They crossed the threshold together. The house smelled faintly of dust and old paper, the air heavy with silence. The dim light from a single bulb cast long shadows that seemed to reach out, as if the walls themselves remembered the stories once told within them.
Liora's eyes drifted over the room—bare wooden furniture, a worn-out armchair in the corner, a small shelf with books stacked unevenly. "It feels… lonely here."
Reyan managed a small, sad smile. "That's because it is."
She wandered toward a narrow table where a few objects lay scattered—a faded notebook, a chipped ceramic mug, and a framed photo. Her breath caught as she picked up the picture. It showed a younger Reyan standing between two warm-faced adults, a woman and a man whose smiles were gentle and real.
"Who are they?" Liora asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"My parents," Reyan replied, voice cracking slightly. "They… they used to live here."
Liora studied the photo closely, feeling a strange pull in her chest. "I think I've seen her before. Your mother," she said slowly, as if testing the words aloud.
Reyan looked at her, puzzled. "Really? Where?"
Liora hesitated, the memories from her childhood flickering in her mind. "When I was a kid, I used to visit an old friend of my mother's. She was kind, always smiling… I think it was her."
The room seemed to grow colder, the silence heavier with unspoken truths. Reyan's fingers trembled slightly as he reached out to touch the frame, tracing the edges. "I never knew much about them. They died when I was fifteen . Left me with… just memories."
Liora's heart ached for him. She moved closer, gently placing her hand over his. "You don't have to carry those memories alone."
He looked up, their eyes meeting—an unspoken understanding passing between them.
They spent the next hour slowly exploring the house, each corner holding fragments of Reyan's past. In a dusty drawer, they found a lullaby book, its pages yellowed but the words still readable. Reyan smiled faintly as he opened it.
"My mother used to sing this to me," he said, voice soft. "Even when things got hard."
Liora sat beside him on the floor, letting the weight of the moment settle around them. "She sounds like a wonderful person."
"She was," Reyan said, the smile fading into a shadow again. "And my father… he tried his best to hold us together."
For a long while, they said nothing, listening instead to the creaks and sighs of the old house, as if it were breathing with memories of laughter and tears.
Finally, Liora broke the silence. "You're stronger than you think, Reyan. You've survived so much already."
He looked at her, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm strong enough to keep going."
"You don't have to be strong all the time," she whispered. "It's okay to lean on someone."
Their hands found each other again, fingers entwining hesitantly, a small comfort against the vastness of pain.
Outside, the night deepened, the stars emerging like distant watchers over the quiet town. Inside the house, the past and present wove together—two souls reaching out, searching for light amid shadows.
Reyan leaned back against the wall, exhaustion pulling at his limbs. "Thank you for being here."
Liora smiled gently, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."
As they sat in the fading light, a soft breeze stirred the curtains, carrying with it a whisper—an echo of times gone by, and a promise of new beginnings.