Whisper Destiny

Chapter 63

~ Natasha ~

Another soft click echoed from the camera, followed by Catherine's light chuckle. I glanced at the screen, and a satisfied smile spread across my face as I admired the shot. Her expression—so genuine, so free—was captured perfectly.

"I don't think I'm worth all these pictures," Catherine said, her voice tinged with playful modesty.

"That's not for you to decide," I teased, my tone light but my intent sincere. "Besides, I happen to think you are."

She shook her head with a quiet laugh, a blush faintly rising on her cheeks, but didn't argue further.

We continued our stroll through the market, hand in hand. I was already falling in love with this place—the vibrant stalls, the mingling scents of pastry and fresh produce, the colorful fabrics swaying in the breeze. But the best part? No one recognized us. There were no prying eyes, no whispers behind raised hands. We were just two strangers, free and unnoticed, lost in the simplicity of the moment. It felt peaceful, almost like stepping into a dream where nothing else mattered but the present.

Suddenly, something caught my eye from one of the stalls, glimmering in the sunlight.

"Babe, look! So beautiful," I exclaimed, not even realizing I'd used the endearment. It had slipped out naturally, like a breath. Without thinking, I tugged her along, our fingers still intertwined, we never let go since the moment we first touched.

The stall was an eclectic collection of vintage treasures, each item bearing the marks of time and craftsmanship long forgotten. A delicate assortment of pocket watches hung in neat rows, their brass and silver casings slightly tarnished, yet glimmering in the light. Some had ornate engravings of flowers or swirling patterns etched into their surfaces, while others were more understated—smooth and timeless, with worn leather straps that had softened from years of use. Their faces were framed with intricate, almost hypnotic details, and their hands, some frozen in place, others ticking faintly, seemed to whisper of long-forgotten moments.

Beside the watches lay trays of jewelry—elegant brooches, some shaped like butterflies or leaves, their colors faded but still vibrant in a certain light. Rings with gemstone settings, their once-sharp facets now softened by time, sparkled subtly under the rays of the sun. There were necklaces too—delicate chains, some with intricate lockets, others strung with pearls that had aged to a creamy, imperfect hue. Each piece seemed to carry a story, waiting to be passed on to whoever picked it up next.

As I studied a particularly beautiful locket, its front adorned with an intricately carved rose, I felt Catherine step up behind me. Her presence was warm, and her breath brushed against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Anything you like, Ellie?" she whispered. She was getting used to the new name, addressing me with such ease now. The way it rolled off her tongue—warm, intimate.

And I loved it.

She leaned in closer, her chin resting on my shoulder as she peered over at the locket in my hand. I could feel the soft press of her body against mine, the closeness making it impossible to concentrate on the trinkets in front of me. Her scent wrapped around me, making the world around us blur. I swallowed, trying to steady my voice.

"I... I'm not sure yet," I stuttered, it was hard to think about anything other than the feeling of her being so close.

"Combien ça coûte?" Catherine asked the stall owner in smooth, practiced French. The stall owner, an older woman with kind, wrinkled eyes and a shawl draped over her shoulders, smiled warmly at us, as if she'd seen a thousand couples just like us pass through her market, but still found the magic in each one.