Letters I never sent | Englot AU

XX

8 years later...

The Parisian air buzzed with chatter and the clinking of espresso cups. Cicely, tucked away in a corner of a quaint cafe, took a sip of her latte, the steam tickling her nose.  Eight years of dreams pursued, paths diverged, and a love held close, a ember flickering in the darkness. Eight years.

She had built a life in London, her acting career finally blossoming under the unforgiving yet nurturing light of spotlights. Euna, after conquering the Hollywood scene, had retreated to the quiet charm of Paris, founding a non-profit that empowered young artists. Lives woven different tapestries, yet, the memory of their entwined souls lingered, a phantom thread tugging at Cicely's heart.

Suddenly, the cafe door chimed, the scent of lavender and sunshine announcing a new arrival. Cicely, her nose buried in a dog-eared copy of Camus, felt a flicker of recognition before she could even look up. Laughter, a familiar melody, cut through the air, sending a jolt through her.

Cicely glanced up, a tremor running through her as she met Euna's eyes. Time had etched a few more lines around them, but the essence, the fire in their gaze, remained untouched.

Euna's smile, once a shy flicker, now bloomed like a Parisian sunrise. "Cicely," she breathed, her voice a familiar melody long unheard.

Cicely stood, her legs shaky, drawn by an invisible force. "Euna," she whispered, and in that single word, years of unspoken words tumbled through the air.

They stood there, a tableau framed by the cafe's warm glow, time itself seeming to hold its breath. The aroma of freshly baked croissants, the laughter of patrons, the clatter of spoons, all faded into the background, their world shrinking to the space they occupied, a universe within two gazes.

Euna took a cautious step forward, her hand outstretched. Cicely mirrored the gesture, their fingers meeting like long-lost puzzle pieces. The touch, once a forbidden spark, now a comforting heat, sent a jolt through their souls.

"Can I?" Euna asked, her voice barely a whisper, gesturing to the empty chair across from her.

Cicely nodded, her throat tight with emotion. As she settled into the chair, the worn wood felt strangely familiar, like a piece of a story left unfinished, now ready to be penned.

They talked, not about the past, but about the present, about the lives they'd built, the paths they'd walked. Each word, a gentle bridge spanning the chasm of time, each smile, a confirmation of the embers that had never truly died.

The afternoon drifted by like a forgotten dream, painted with laughter and lingering touches. The setting sun cast long shadows across the cafe, a silent reminder of the passing time. But this time, the setting sun held no fear, only the promise of a new dawn.

As Euna walked Cicely back to her hotel, the warm night air whispered with unspoken confessions. Beneath the twinkling Parisian sky, Euna stopped, their breaths mingling in the cool air.

"Eight years," Euna said, her voice laced with wonder. "And it feels like yesterday."

Cicely reached out, her fingers brushing against Euna's cheek. "Maybe," she whispered, her eyes searching Euna's, "maybe we were always meant to find our way back."

Euna's smile, bathed in the moonlight, held a universe of unspoken promises. "Maybe," she breathed, "maybe this time, it's finally the right time."

In the hushed quiet of a Parisian backstreet, beneath the gaze of a million twinkling stars, two souls, scarred but stronger, embraced the dawn of a new beginning. The echoes of the weeping willow, whispers of a love that dared to believe, resonated in the air, a silent ode to a love that had found its way back home.

And in that moment, under the Parisian sky, with the scent of old books and the echo of laughter in the air, they knew. It was finally the right time. They were finally free. And their love, after eight years of waiting, was finally ready to bloom, in all its glorious, messy, beautiful freedom.

...

"Eight years, a million moments, and all it took was one glance, one touch, to know we were finally home."

— The End —