Leyla's POV
I took his hand, and the world seemed to shift, just a little. We walked out of the coffee shop and into the bright sunlight, the warmth of his skin a comforting shock against my own. It wasn't a promise of an immediate happily-ever-after, but it was a beginning. A shaky, hopeful step forward.
We walked without a destination, our joined hands swinging gently between us. I was bracing myself for the silence, for the unspoken weight of our past, but it never came. He was just... there. A constant, steady presence. He pointed out a dog with a comically large sweater, and we both laughed. It was the first time I had laughed with him that wasn't layered with an undercurrent of sadness.
"So," he said, turning to me with a grin, "no more history lessons. What do you want to do right now? We can go to a movie, find the best food truck in the city, or just keep walking until we end up in another country."
"Just keep walking," I said, the words surprising even me. The thought of a planned activity felt too formal, too much like we were on a first date. What we were doing felt more real than that.
We ended up in a busy part of the city, a long street lined with quirky shops and brightly painted murals. We passed a street musician playing a ukulele, and an old woman selling flower crowns made of paper. The air buzzed with a chaotic, happy energy. As we walked, a gust of wind picked up a crumpled piece of paper and sent it spiraling into the air. Luke and I both watched it as it danced in the wind, bouncing off lampposts and twisting in circles. It landed gently in my hair.
I laughed, reaching up to get it. Luke's hand was there first, his fingers brushing against my cheek as he gently plucked the paper from my hair. He unfolded it and held it up. It was a cartoon drawing of a smiling sun and a frowning cloud.
"Look," he said, holding it up for both of us to see. "The Sun-Cloud constellation. Our first new memory."
I smiled, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun. It was an echo of the "Giraffe Burrito" story, but this one was all ours. It was a blank page, finally filled with a new beginning.
"It's a lot better than a paper airplane," I said, a playful challenge in my voice.
"Oh, you have no idea," he replied, tucking the paper into his pocket. "That's a story for another time."
He took my hand again, and we continued to walk. The sun was warm, the music was good, and the hand holding mine felt exactly where it was supposed to be. For the first time since my accident, I didn't feel like I was walking in the shadow of a ghost. I felt like I was walking in the light, ready to see what was next.
~
We walked for what felt like hours, not because of the distance, but because of the way time seemed to slow down when we were together. We were just two people, side by side, our hands a quiet anchor in the bustling crowd. He pointed out a mural of a massive, colorful bird, and I told him it looked more like a psychedelic chicken. He laughed, a deep, easy sound that made my own smile feel effortless.
As we neared a small park, Luke stopped and pointed to a bench under a large oak tree. "Let's sit for a second. My feet are officially tired."
We settled onto the bench, our knees bumping together. The silence this time was different—it was peaceful, not awkward. The earlier awkwardness was gone, replaced by a comfortable quiet.
"So," I said, breaking the silence. "The paper airplane story."
He grinned, pulling the Sun-Cloud drawing from his pocket and smoothing it out on his knee. "You want to know that one, huh?"

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You Might Be The One (A Fan Fiction) - Luke Hemmings
FanfictionLeyla Jase, a girl haunted by an event from her past, had long since given up on the idea of a mutual understanding with anyone. At 15, a forgotten trauma stole that belief from her, leaving her a stranger to herself. Then Luke Hemmings, an Australi...