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As I looked down at myself, my plain clothing had been replaced by a flowing gown in a shade of soft pink.
The fabric felt delicate against my skin, the intricate golden patterns shimmering subtly as they caught the sunlight.
My fingers, now adorned with rings, reached up to touch a wreath of fresh flowers that crowned my head.
The petals felt soft and velvety, the gentle aroma grounding me in this surreal experience.
Everything was in overwhelming detail.
The air was rich and slightly sweet, possibly from the ripened grapes nearby; the background hum of bees diligently at work, the sensation of a soft shawl draped over my shoulders to protect against the sun.
Even the warmth of the sun felt different, kinder, a gentle caress rather than a scorching blaze.
But as I tried to move, to reach out and touch the world around me, the sharp clarity began to wane.
The sounds became distant echoes, the vivid colors started to merge and fade.
In a matter of moments, the grandeur of ancient Rome evaporated, leaving behind the crumbling vestiges of the abandoned home.
The pillars and frescoes, the laughter and music — all gone, as if they had been mere illusions.
The loss was sudden and overwhelming.
The wave of emotions — a mix of awe, joy, nostalgia, and now, a deep sense of loss — threatened to drown me.
Two worlds; the one from our shared past and the current reality, was jarring.
Without thinking, I rushed over to Thillak.
I stumbled over the uneven floor, but it didn’t matter.
I needed to be close to him, to anchor myself to something real, something constant.
As I wrapped my arms around him, I felt his warmth seep through, steadying my trembling form.
He was real.
This was real.
His arms closed around me, firm and reassuring.
He held me close, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that I tried to match.
The feeling of his fingers stroking my hair was a balm to my frazzled nerves.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice deep and soothing. “It’s just the past trying to break through. We’re here, in the now. I’ve got you.”
The fear began to ebb, replaced by a profound gratitude.
With him by my side, past or present, I was home.
Tears blurred my vision, and I buried my face deeper into his chest, letting his strength envelop me.
With each passing second, the haunting beauty of our past life faded, leaving behind only the poignant memories and a love that refused to be confined by time.
* * *
The air grew palpably thicker as we moved deeper into the house, every step bringing a new rush of memories, like water being poured into a cup already full.
