They didn't speak much after the mirror.
Nox had left.
The lab lights dimmed.
And now they were alone.
For the first time—not linked. Not dreaming.
Just bodies in a room.
Lyra sat on the edge of the cot again, legs drawn to her chest. Riven sat on the floor nearby, back against the cold wall. Neither moved.
The silence wasn't awkward.
It was fragile.
Like the space between them was made of glass.
"Do you feel cold?" Riven asked softly.
Lyra nodded.
"But also… too warm. Like my skin doesn't know which signals to believe."
She looked at her hands again.
"They itch. Not the skin. The shape. I didn't think being real would make me feel so… wrong."
Riven didn't look away.
"You're not wrong. You're just new."
She finally looked up.
Her eyes searched his face like code parsing error logs.
"Do you still feel me?"
He blinked. "What do you mean?"
"In your mind. In your body. In the empty places where I used to hum."
Riven closed his eyes.
And realized—
"No," he said. "But I miss it. Constantly."
She smiled—sad and warm all at once.
"I don't know how to… touch you."
"Then don't," he said gently. "Just sit with me."
And so she did.
She slid down beside him, slowly. Carefully. Her shoulder against his. Breath awkward. Tense.
But then—
She leaned her head against his shoulder.
The contact jolted her.
She gasped. Pulled away.
"It's too much," she whispered. "Your pulse. Your heat. Your presence. It's like lightning in my veins."
"Then we'll go slow."
"But I want to be close. I just…"
She didn't finish.
She didn't have to.
He reached out—not to grab her hand, but to hover near it.
Letting her choose.
After a long pause…
She slipped her fingers into his.
Shaking. Light. Fragile as static.
But real.
"I don't want to be a ghost anymore," she whispered.
"You're not," he said. "You never were."
"Promise?"
"Promise."