In 587 C.E., under the pale moon of a forgotten land, Echo met Lyra. Whispered promises carved in the parchment of her dreams.
Year 3041, they exchange glances filled with galaxies between, tethered by heartstrings of the cosmos, but never to be twined.
Particles in time fold over love like a delicate tapestry—each thread a lingering caress, shaped by moments none could hold.
Have you tasted the gentle ache of a fleeting glance? A time traveler’s ardent kiss stuck in the clocks frozen in dreams?
One ran for roses along a dilapidated platform; the other leaned into echoes of sound unheard, finding purpose where time decays.