She looked tense as her gaze wandered from the hem of her light blue dress to the canopy of an old oak tree, then descended to her palms and rose again, searching for the source of birds chirping. Leon clumsily got off Athos. Luckily, she didn't see that.

  "Hey," Leon said.

  Ariana turned around, unaware of his approach. She no longer seemed tense. Her gaze crystallized. Feigning coldness, she donned a cloak of arrogance.

  "I believe you have something of mine," she said without hesitation.

  Something of yours? Yes, there is something left: the taste of your lips is still in my mouth; traces of your breasts are still all over my chest, and the imprint of your palm is still discernible on mine. Your hair strands are still in front of me, your fingertips are everywhere on my skin. Whenever I look up at the sky, I see your eyes. I sail the river of memories, rummage through the crate of your smiles, but you probably didn't mean that...

  "Have you been waiting long?"

  "Tolerable, compared to the time I spent waiting for you in vain. At least this time, I was sure you'd show up eventually."

  He was expecting stings. He struggled not to smile because he had always found it amusing when she was angry.

  "Do you have my blue ribbon?"

  The one I took off your hair last night so I'd have a reason to see you again?

  "I do. It was stuck on my shirt, I didn't notice it. I tried to find you last night, but you disappeared," he lied.

  "Can I have it back?"

  "Sure, come in."

  She entered uncertainly and stopped at the doorway of the large room, arms crossed in front of her.

  "It's upstairs," Leon said, and Ariana followed him.

  They remained silent as they crossed the spacious living room, winding through the twisted stairs around the old oak tree. He didn't know what to say. Every word he attempted to utter vanished on its way to the tip of his lips, and his mouth grew dry.

  "This ribbon must be very important to you..."

  Ariana stood by the window, appearing to be on pins and needles.

  "It's a gift. I got it from my grandma." She looked away as she spoke.

  He already knew the ribbon was a gift; he also knew it was from her grandmother. She told him how she liked to tailor her dresses and choose colors according to her eyes, always sewing a ribbon for her hair. He also knew how much that ribbon must mean to her because her grandmother was no longer alive, but he didn't know how to break the awkward silence. That was all he could come up with.

  "You just disappeared last night," he finally said. "Did I say something wrong?"

  "You didn't say anything. That's the problem."

  She spoke measuredly, avoiding details. She didn't even look at him.

  "I don't understand..."

  "Of course you don't understand. I should get going. "

  She stepped back toward the stairs, but Leon grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him.

  "Don't you ever touch me again! Never! Don't come looking for me. Don't come near me. How dare you—after all this time, after everything? Now, when I've finally moved on? Where have you been until now?" Her eyes filled with tears.

  "Here. Right where we're standing. I don't remember you coming to look for me." Leon's gaze became restless, gloomy.

  "How can you say that to me? I've been looking for you for days—for months. I've asked everyone about you, and this is such a small place! Everyone had some news except me! To me, it was like you'd vanished into thin air. If I ever made an effort for anyone, it was for you. So how dare you tell me I wasn't looking for you? What right do you have? Were you looking for me, by any chance?" Her voice trembled like a dove on the roof while winter howled outside.

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  "Maybe I did—but he was there whenever I tried to approach you. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't bear that you replaced me so quickly."

  She was flushed with rage.

  "Yes, he was there, Leon. He was there! That's something you know nothing about. All you know how to do is disappear. Unlike you, some people care, show their feelings, they don't hide. And just so you know, there was nothing between me and Mike. Never. Like a true friend, he was there for me in hard times. Something you know so little about."

  "And now?"

  "Now what?"

  "Is there anything between you and Mike now?"

  She went silent for a moment. "It's too late now, Leon," she said, then looked him directly in the eyes.

  The hot hoop tightened around his chest. He was running out of breath.

  "Are you happy?"

  He, too, gazed into her eyes, searching for any sign. Anything. A glimmer of hope he could fight for. He didn't blink, fearing that the glimmer might slip away.

  "I am, finally." She didn't blink either as she spoke these words. "I have to go, Leon."

  Suddenly, his lips found hers, afraid that she might reject them. He kissed her as if parched, drinking water from her lips and couldn't quench his thirst. His chest thumped vigorously against hers. She didn't stop him—they were both thirsty.

  His hands moved fearfully from her waist towards the buttons on her dress, which was buttoned at the back. One. Then another. And another. He could have ripped it off her, but he didn't want to scare her. He didn't want her to change her mind. Not now. Fourth. Gently. Fifth. There were no buttons left.

  He tenderly touched her neck, from which he descended to the shoulders. He felt her skin shiver. Gently, he slipped the dress from her shoulders, caressing her arms with his fingertips. Her skin was soft and warm, betraying her boiling blood.

  She slipped her hands under his shirt, finding the perfect spot for them on his back. She hugged him passionately, then grabbed the hem of his shirt and took it off him, brushing her wet lips over his neck, then down towards his chest. This time, Leon shivered.

  Delicately, they wove a fiery wreath on his bed, upon which the sun sprinkled a honeyed brilliance.

  They didn't move or talk for a while. She lay beside him, dreamy, with his hand on her breasts. He didn't want to let her go, savoring the moment. They were flushed with passion and the pink rays of the already purplish sky that managed to wriggle their way to them.

  He felt her slipping away. She gathered her things from the floor, turning her back to him as if he had never held her. Now that the game was over, she pieced herself back together, pulling away as if she had never been his.

  The truth was, she never had been. And what could one moment of weakness—an uncontrolled outburst of passion—truly change?

  He felt the weight of stone settle in his chest again.

  She took her blue ribbon, tied her hair, and finally turned to face him. "Thank you for giving me what’s mine."

  She headed towards the exit, and he couldn't utter a word.

  "You're welcome," he mumbled as she disappeared.

  He lay naked on the feather mattress, gazing at the intertwined dry branches of his ceiling. They looked like a depiction of his thoughts. He had a weird feeling they were mocking him. Rising, he moved to the window and gazed at the path leading to Terrun, watching her leave while everything inside him withered again.