Fragment II – When the Stars Were Listening

He sensed 

A thing in her that defied earthbound.
Not her voice. 

Not her name.
Though he longed to call her by what she once was —

time held that truth veiled in shadow

It was the gravity she carried without effort —
the way silence rearranged itself in her presence.
Rooms softened.
Breath slowed.
And people — drawn like tides —
moved closer without knowing why.

She never noticed the pull.
But he did.
And watching it was like witnessing a secret the universe had kept well.

It wasn’t his role to name it.
Only to notice.
Only to test.

Three times, by universe law.
A glance, a question, a silence.

Each time, she answered without knowing.
Each time, the response trembled true.
Not in words — but in the vibration that followed.

She moved through the world

unaware that the unseen had already taken notice.
Didn’t know the stars had always been listening.
Didn’t know how deeply she had always been protected.

But she dreamed in constellations.
Woke with stardust behind her eyes.
Felt homesick for places that had no names.

He said nothing, still.
But he stepped differently beside her now.
Not as one guiding — but as one remembering.

And somewhere, just beyond what the ear can hold,
the sky hummed in recognition.

With Grace & Ink,

Mai