The wind carries a gentle hum through the mountain air, weaving between the pine trees and across the narrow stone path. It is almost like a song, like the notes of a melody long forgotten.
Julius hums along to it, his boots scuffing softly against the dirt. The climb is steep, but he doesn’t mind. The effort, the ache in his legs, the chill of the evening breeze it makes him feel alive. And he likes that. He likes feeling here.
He pauses at the edge of a cliff, overlooking the valley bathed in golden twilight. The world below seems so distant, so small, and for a moment, he forgets about the weight in his chest. Then, a familiar warmth brushes against his hand.
“Catherine,” he whispers, his breath catching.
She stands beside him, her fingers curling around his own. Her touch is so soft, so real. A small smile tugs at her lips, her eyes gleaming like the first stars peeking through the sky.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“You always loved this place,” she murmurs, tilting her head toward the horizon. “Still chasing the last light?”
Julius swallows, blinking rapidly. “It feels like I could catch it, if I just reached far enough.”
Catherine laughs, the sound like wind chimes in the evening air. It fills his chest, makes him feel whole. "Then keep reaching," she says, her voice carrying a warmth that lingers.
For a while, they stand together, watching the sun sink below the mountains, painting the sky in hues of violet and amber. Julius squeezes her hand, grounding himself in the moment, in her presence. He wants to stay like this forever. But somewhere, deep down, he knows.
He is alone.
The warmth fades, and the weight in his chest returns, heavier than before. His fingers grasp at the empty space where hers had been, but there is nothing. Just the wind. Just the mountain.
A deep shuddering breath wracks his frame, and he closes his eyes, willing her back. Sometimes she stays longer. Sometimes she disappears in the middle of a sentence. And sometimes, she doesn’t come at all.
But when the silence becomes too much to bear, he hums. A quiet tune, one they used to sing together. The mountain hums with him, carrying the song far beyond the valley. And somewhere in the wind, he swears he hears her voice, singing along.