The Garden awoke with them. Morning spread gold across the horizon, and dew clung to every leaf like diamonds waiting to be gathered. Adam led Eve through the meadow, his hand still wrapped gently around hers as though afraid she might vanish if he let go.
Everywhere they walked, creation seemed to bend toward them. Birds swooped closer, their wings flashing in the sunlight. A pair of tigers lay calmly in the grass, their eyes gleaming but harmless, as though recognizing the two who were meant to walk above all creatures. Even the river, once loud with rushing waters, softened its current until it sang like a gentle Soothing melody.
Eve's eyes darted everywhere, wide with wonder. She touched the petals of a lily, gasping softly at the silken texture. She crouched beside a lamb and giggled when it pressed its nose against her palm. Her laughter was soft, like the music Adam had always longed to hear without knowing it.
Adam found himself watching her more than the Garden. He had walked these paths countless times, but with her beside him, everything seemed new. The trees stood taller, the fruits sweeter, the air brighter. Eve did not speak yet, not with words, but her expressions painted entire stories—curiosity, delight, innocence.
At the edge of a crystal pond, Eve bent down and stared at her reflection. Her fingers brushed the water, ripples distorting her image. She tilted her head, then glanced back at Adam, as if asking silently: Who am I?
Adam joined her, kneeling by her side. Their reflections shimmered together, side by side in the water. He pointed to himself. "Adam."
Then he touched his chest. "Adam," he repeated.
Her lips moved slowly, shaping the sound. "A…dam." The syllables were unsteady, but the sweetness of her voice filled him with warmth.
He smiled and touched her hand gently. "Eve."
Her brows knit in confusion.
"Eve," he repeated, the name flowing like a secret gift from his soul, though it had not been spoken before. "You are Eve."
She placed her hand upon her chest, repeating carefully: "Eve."
The name lingered in the air, echoing across the Garden as though every creature acknowledged it. Adam laughed with joy, and Eve laughed with him, her voice blending with his until the meadow itself seemed to join their song.
They spent the day exploring together. Adam showed her the fruit trees, pulling down figs and pomegranates to share. Eve ate with delight, her lips stained with sweetness, and Adam watched her as though the act of eating had never been so miraculous before.
When they grew tired, they lay in the tall grass, clouds drifting lazily above. Eve traced shapes in the air with her hands, her gestures playful and light. Adam mirrored her movements, their laughter mingling until it filled the sky.
But as the sun began to sink, a hush settled over them. Eve sat up, her gaze drawn to a distant grove. At its center rose a tree unlike the others, its trunk vast, its branches heavy with fruit that glowed as though lit from within.
Eve pointed, curiosity glimmering in her eyes.
Adam's smile faded. He followed her gaze and shook his head. "Not that one," he said softly, though he wondered if she understood. "That tree is not for us."
Her eyes lingered on it, the glow of its fruit reflecting in her dark pupils. Something in her expression shifted—a quiet question, a hunger for understanding. But Adam gently touched her hand, guiding her attention back to the Garden around them.
They walked back together, yet the image of the forbidden tree stayed with them both.
That night, when the stars filled the heavens, Adam lay on the grass with Eve at his side.
The warmth of her body against his arm filled him with peace he had never known. Her head rested against his shoulder, her breath steady, her eyes slowly drifting closed.
Adam whispered into the quiet, though he wasn't sure if she understood yet. "You are the answer to my loneliness. You are my heart, my soul, my other half. With you, the Garden is complete."
Eve's fingers curled around his, tightening with a tenderness that needed no words.
Above them, the stars shone brighter, as though blessing their union. But somewhere, unseen, the serpent stirred, its eyes fixed upon them, waiting patiently for its moment.