A quiet determination settled within Myra, a resolve to bridge the gap between Freya’s perception and the profound love that now filled her own heart. She remained silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts, a soft sigh escaping her lips. How could she convey the depth of her feelings, how could she show Freya the love that bloomed within her without words alone? It felt like trying to capture starlight in her hands.

  Freya, sensing Myra’s continued emotional turmoil and her subsequent silence, turned towards her, her crimson eyes filled with gentle concern. “Myra,” she asked softly, her voice a low murmur that blended with the night sounds, “why did you ask me what I thought of you? Was there something specific you were hoping to hear? And more importantly,” she added, her gaze searching Myra’s face, “is there anything I can do to help you with whatever troubles your heart?” Her words offered an opening, an invitation for Myra to share the deeper feelings that were clearly stirring within her.

  Myra met Freya’s gaze, her own eyes reflecting the starlight and a newfound resolve. “Freya,” she began, her voice soft but clear, “I asked you because… because I wanted to know if you saw me. Truly saw me.”

  She paused, taking a deep breath. “And yes,” she continued, her gaze unwavering, “there is something you can do.”

  Freya’s brow furrowed slightly, her expression a mixture of curiosity and a hint of apprehension. She leaned in slightly, her full attention focused on Myra. “And what… what is that, Myra?” she asked, her voice a low, expectant murmur in the quiet night.

  Myra reached out, her hand finding Freya’s on the cool wooden bench. Her touch was tentative at first, then firm, her fingers intertwining with Freya’s. She looked into the ancient vampire’s crimson eyes, her own filled with a vulnerability that id bare the depth of her emotions.

  “Look at me, Freya,” Myra said softly, her voice filled with a quiet intensity. “Really look at me. And tell me… tell me what you see now.”

  Freya’s breath hitched subtly as Myra’s fingers intertwined with hers, the unexpected warmth of the mortal touch a stark contrast to her own cool skin. Her crimson eyes, which had been filled with gentle concern, now widened slightly, a flicker of something akin to surprise – and perhaps a dawning comprehension – entering their depths.

  She didn’t speak immediately, her gaze fixed on Myra’s face, her features softening as she truly looked. She saw the lingering traces of tears, the vulnerability etched around her eyes, but also the unwavering resolve in her gaze. She saw the gentle curve of her lips, the slight tremor in her hands, the open honesty that radiated from her very being.

  The starlight cast delicate shadows on Myra’s face, highlighting the very human fragility that Freya had noted before, but now it also seemed to illuminate an inner strength, a fierce tenderness that was directed squarely at her. Freya’s gaze deepened, searching beyond the surface, perhaps sensing the unspoken emotions that y beneath.

  After a long, silent moment, her voice barely a whisper, Freya finally responded, her eyes still locked with Myra’s. “I see… Myra,” she said, her tone filled with a newfound awareness, a dawning understanding of the unspoken truth that hung between them. The simplicity of her reply held a weight of profound recognition.

  Freya’s gaze remained locked with Myra’s, a subtle shift occurring in the depths of her crimson eyes. The initial surprise had given way to a thoughtful intensity, a careful consideration of the woman holding her hand.

  “I see a warmth,” Freya continued, her voice a low murmur, almost as if speaking to herself. “A light that persists even through tears. I see a courage, Myra, a willingness to be vulnerable, to show your heart without reservation.” Her gaze traced the delicate features of Myra’s face, lingering for a moment on her lips.

  “I see a kindness that seems innate, a deep capacity for empathy that reaches out even to those who might seem…unworthy,” she added, a fleeting shadow crossing her expression before it softened again as she returned her gaze to Myra’s eyes.

  “And… I see a strength, Myra,” Freya concluded, her voice gaining a touch more firmness. “Not the brute strength of immortal beings, but a strength of spirit, a resilience that allows you to face difficult truths and express your feelings with such… honesty. I see you, Myra… truly.” Her words were simple, yet they carried a weight of profound recognition, an acknowledgment of the depth and complexity of the mortal woman before her.

  Myra’s heart pounded in her chest, the silence stretching between them thick with anticipation. Freya’s words, the careful observations, the final, resonant “I see you, Myra,” offered a glimmer of hope, but the specific affirmation she longed for remained unspoken.

  Gathering her courage, Myra tightened her grip on Freya’s hand, her gaze still locked with the ancient vampire’s. She phrased her question carefully, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of yearning and trepidation. “And Freya… the you that you see… is that someone… someone you… find yourself… drawn to?”

  A long, silent moment stretched between them, the only sounds the gentle rustling of leaves in the night breeze and the distant chirping of crickets. Freya’s crimson eyes held Myra’s, a storm of emotions swirling within their depths – a flicker of surprise, a hint of vulnerability, and a battle against centuries of ingrained caution.

  Finally, Freya’s gaze softened, a sigh escaping her lips, almost imperceptible in the stillness of the night. She squeezed Myra’s hand gently, her cool skin a stark contrast to Myra’s warmth.

  “Drawn?” Freya echoed the word softly, as if testing its weight and meaning. Her eyes flickered down to their intertwined hands before returning to meet Myra’s gaze once more. “Myra,” she said, her voice a low murmur, ced with a hesitant honesty. “Your presence… it has become something… essential. Something I find myself… anticipating. And the emotions you evoke within me… they are… unlike anything I have experienced in a very long time.”

  She paused, as if searching for the right words, her expression a mixture of wonder and a touch of fear. “To deny that I feel… a connection… a pull towards you… would be dishonest. You have… awakened something within me, Myra. Something I thought long dormant.” Her answer, though not a direct decration, was an undeniable acknowledgment of the growing and undeniable feelings she harbored for the mortal woman.