When they meet again after the letters

The morning was pale with spring light.

She stood beneath the old oak tree in the garden where they had met so often before — when words had not yet been spoken, when only glances passed between them.

But now — he was coming.

She heard footsteps on the stone path.
Turning, she saw him — Edmund — breathless, with her letter folded carefully in his hand.

Their eyes met — and there were no shields left between them.
No distance.

He came to her, faster now, until he stood close enough to see the soft tremble in her lips, the light in her gaze.

"I have nothing left to write," he whispered. "No more letters. Only this."

And then — as if the whole world had stilled —
he cupped her face, so gently it made her shiver.

"I love you," he said. "I will say it a thousand times if I must — but let it be heard now, not in shadows or ink. Here. Now. Before you."

Tears shone in her eyes.
"I have always loved you," she whispered back. "Take my breath away — you already have."

And as their foreheads touched, as his arms finally wrapped around her and she leaned into his chest —
time slipped away.

There were no kings or crowns now.
Only two hearts that had waited too long.

And in that quiet garden, beneath the spring sky, they began again.

by Onnaya