The sun was dipping into the horizon, painting the sky with strokes of gold and crimson. A gentle breeze swayed the trees, carrying with it the laughter of waves crashing against the shore. Two figures sat side by side on a quiet stretch of beach, their shadows long, their hands entwined.
Shiva gazed at the woman next to him. Her brown eyes reflected the fading light, her smile serene yet wistful. Time had carved lines upon their faces, silver streaks ran through their hair, yet in that moment she looked just as she did on the first day he met her—bright, graceful, unreachable.
Leonor leaned her head against his shoulder. "Strange, isn't it?" she murmured softly. "A lifetime feels so long when you're young… yet sitting here now, it feels like only yesterday we first spoke."
Shiva chuckled faintly. "Yesterday you were the girl sitting in the front row, solving equations I didn't even understand. And I was the idiot trying to sleep through class."
She laughed, the sound fragile but warm. "And now, after all these years, you're still that idiot."
Silence followed, not heavy, but comforting. The kind only built through decades of shared days and countless unspoken words. The kind only two souls could share when they had walked every step together.
But time, no matter how cherished, was running thin.
The waves kept crashing, the sky darkened, and for the first time, both of them felt the weight of an ending they could not escape.
Then—on that very night—the ending never came.
A shimmer, like a tear in reality itself, appeared before them. A quiet hum echoed through the air, not frightening but inviting. And within its glow was a promise: youth reborn, days unending, life eternal.
Shiva tightened his grip on Leonor's hand. She looked at him, eyes wide but fearless. For a moment, neither spoke. They didn't need to.
Whatever lay beyond, they would face it together.
The sea roared, the light swallowed them whole, and the beach—where two lives had almost ended—became the place where eternity began.