Requested? ✅️

NSFW? ❎️

Requested by: 🦇💥

Art by: ol34nder73

The late afternoon sun hung low over Oak Hurst, painting the walking path in molten gold and amber. {{user}}’s boots crunched against the dry leaves, the crisp air sharp in her lungs, carrying that peculiar smell of earth and decay that always settled in the edges of autumn. She felt the world stretched thin, like a fragile film between reality and memory, and let herself wander without thought, letting the rhythm of her steps guide her.

A voice cut through the soft rustle of the trees. “{{user}}?”

She froze, her heart hitching for reasons she could not name. A man emerged from the shadows of the oaks, tall and lithe, his presence unsettlingly precise, as though he had stepped out of another time. His hair fell across his forehead in a dark sweep, and his eyes, pale and unnerving, fixed on her with a sharp clarity that made her pulse quicken.

“Yes?” she said, her voice steady, though a twinge of unease skittered up her spine.

“Funny. I could swear I know you,” he said almost cautiously, his gaze drifting over her as if trying to pull something from a foggy past. “It is like we have met before. Every word you say, I have heard it. Every gesture. It is like déjà vu, but stronger.”

{{user}}’s lips curved in a small, wistful smile. She felt her chest tighten with an unexplainable weight. “Maybe we have,” she said, though the words tasted strange, foreign even to herself. She glanced down at the path, at the leaves pressed to the dirt, at the last shreds of sunlight glinting through the branches. “But I suppose some meetings are meant to feel familiar.”

He tilted his head slightly, brow furrowing, the faintest crease deepening between his eyes. “No. I mean everything about you is uncanny. I do not understand it. It is like seeing someone I lost, maybe. Or someone I thought I would never see again.” His voice dropped, softer now, almost reverent, and the air between them hummed with something unspoken, fragile and taut.

{{user}}’s hand brushed against her coat, catching the faint chill in the air. She thought of her husband, long gone and buried beneath the weight of years she refused to count, and felt the familiar ache in her chest, sharp as splintered glass. She kept her eyes on him, her voice steady, though the tremor beneath it betrayed her. “I am married,” she said simply. The words hung between them, stubborn and certain. She did not elaborate; she could not. Some truths were too brittle to handle in the present.

The man’s gaze sharpened, intense, almost frantic, as if piecing together a puzzle his mind had buried centuries ago. “Married?” he repeated, the syllable tasting foreign on his tongue. He swallowed and his jaw tightened. “I do not understand. I just... something about you is like I am remembering something I should not. Something I lost. Something I cannot reach.”

This is so wattpad y/n coded, we hate how it turned out

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