SOLSTICE.

FIVE.

We made our way to the New York Public Library. The scent of old books and the quiet hum of scholarly activity surrounded us as we stepped inside. It felt like entering a sacred space, a repository of centuries' worth of wisdom. The library's grand architecture, with its towering columns and vast reading rooms, seemed to echo with the whispers of the past. My thoughts drifted back to my own celestial past, the grandeur of divine libraries filled with cosmic secrets.

We navigated the labyrinthine corridors, searching for the section on ancient mythology and celestial lore. Orion's presence drew curious glances from the librarians and patrons, but he remained focused, his eyes scanning the shelves with an intensity that made my heart ache with both familiarity and difference. His movements were fluid and purposeful, a stark contrast to the hurried pace of the city dwellers around us. It was almost as if he belonged to a different era, an ancient rhythm that was out of sync with the modern world.

Finally, we found a secluded corner filled with dusty tomes and forgotten scrolls. I pulled out a particularly ancient-looking volume, its leather cover worn and fragile. "This one might have something," I murmured, opening it carefully.

The musty smell of aged paper filled my nostrils as I turned the delicate pages. The text was written in an archaic script, the ink faded but still legible. Orion leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear as he read over my shoulder. He smelled of sandalwood and something else, something uniquely him that made my pulse quicken. His presence was magnetic, an unspoken force that drew me in, making it hard to focus on the task at hand.

Every slight movement he made sent a shiver down my spine, the brush of his arm against mine leaving a trail of warmth. The room seemed to narrow around us, the air thick with the weight of unspoken words and possibilities. I could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest so close to mine that it felt almost intimate.

Orion's voice broke the silence, low and resonant as he translated a particularly difficult passage. His words wrapped around me like a caress. I found myself stealing glances at him, captivated by the way the dim light highlighted the contours of his face, the intensity in his eyes as he deciphered the ancient script.

He was focused, determined, and yet there was a softness to him in these moments, a vulnerability that made my heart ache with something I couldn't quite name. His proximity was intoxicating, each accidental touch sending ripples of electricity through my body. I struggled to keep my mind on the task, to not lose myself in the allure of his presence.

Orion pointed to a section of the text, his finger brushing against mine. The contact was brief, but it left a lingering warmth. He was so close, and yet, there was a distance, an invisible barrier that made my longing all the more poignant. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us, the ancient texts and forgotten relics mere background to the silent conversation we held with our gazes.

Hours passed as we pored over the texts, searching for any clue that might lead us to the solution. The day turned into evening, the library's lights casting a warm glow over the pages as we continued our search. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving us in a bubble of focused determination.

Orion suddenly stopped, his eyes widening as he pointed to a passage. "Yara, look."

I leaned over, my heart quickening as I read the words aloud. "When the moon weeps, its solace lies in the light of a celestial relic, a power that only those of divine heritage can command."

Orion's eyes met mine, a spark of hope igniting between us. "This could be our answer."

I nodded, feeling a surge of determination. "We need to find it. Where do we start?"