The screen flickers, casting shades upon the empty hallways. A silhouette dances in longing, a whisper carried by the wind through sepia-toned corridors.

She glances back, her eyes a sea of unsaid words, as the echo of his name crumbles against the walls.

"Oh, the velvet touch of the past," she sighs, her voice an ethereal wisp in the dim light. "Once, we twirled on stars, beneath a moon that remembered us." The moon remembers

He steps forward, a flicker in the shadow—silent yet resonant, each step a heartbeat in the labyrinth of yesterday. "We are but echoes, my love, dancing in fragments." The truth lingers in the air, sweet and painful, like a forgotten melody.

End Scene...