"How do we..." Elias started, his voice cracking. "How do we do this? How do we exist when the fire has turned to grey ash?"

As the city lights faded in the rearview mirror, the radio began to play a familiar melody. They both knew the words, but for the first time in years, neither of them sang along.

Elias didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. Behind the mask he wore—the one he showed the world to hide his scars—he was crumbling. He thought of the lyrics they used to hum together, songs about souls entwined like ivy, impossible to separate without tearing the skin. Now, they were just two echoes in an empty hallway.

Elena finally turned toward him. In the dim glow of the dashboard, her eyes weren't filled with anger, but a profound, aching nostalgia. She reached out, her fingers hovering just inches from his hand on the gear shift. She didn't touch him. The distance felt like a canyon.

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