The young Arwen looked confused. Blinking her eyes at the young boy, she asked, "Promise? What promise, Ide?"
The young guy stared at her for a moment before finally saying, "Promise to be my girlfriend now and wife later."
"Girlfriend? Wife? What does that have to do with taking a picture?" The little girl titled her head, her face filled with innocent confusion.
But to the boy, this seemed to be a serious matter. Without creating further suspense, he explained, "A picture together makes a marriage certificate complete. Do you think taking a picture is something simple?"
Seeing the girl blink at him in deep thought, he shook his head and continued, "'It's not. That's why if I take a picture with a girl, she has to be my girlfriend and, in the future, my wife. That way, she won't feel jealous of anyone else later."
The girl paused at his words, her small face scrunched in thought, as if she was truly considering his reasoning.
Standing at a distance, Arwen watched the scene unfold, equally stunned.
The was no flaw in the boy's logic. His reasoning was clear, perhaps even too mature for his age.
But something about it felt deliberate, as if he wasn't just talking about a picture … but rather, he was making a confession. A declaration of his intentions.
What it was —she didn't know?
Was it happening real or if it was just some of her imagination —she wasn't sure.
But at the moment she wasn't to know the girl couldn't possibly agree to him?
Of course, she couldn't. The young girl was no one but her at a younger age.
Doesn't it mean it was her?
And if it was her, then she couldn't possible agree …
Just as she was thinking all that, she heard the boy ask again.
"So do you promise me?" frёewebηovel.cѳm
Her gaze turned towards her younger self, waiting for her to reply.
She expected the little girl to shake her head and refuse. But instead, to her shock, she saw her happily nodding.
"Mhm-hm," the young Arwen hummed. "Now can we take more of the pictures?"
Arwen froze.
She didn't understand what she was watching. Why was this happening? It felt all absurd.
And … who was the boy?
Before she could focus on him, she saw her younger self suddenly grab his hand, pulling him along excitedly.
"Now that you have agreed, we will take pictures somewhere else. Let's go to the lake."
With that, she ran ahead, giggling.
Behind her the boy called out, his voice laced with concern.
"Be careful, Moon!"
Arwen's eyes widened.
Moon?!
Did she hear him call her Moon?
How was that possible?
Why would he call her that?
The next instant —
Arwen's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding in her chest. She stared at the ceiling, her mind still reeling from the dream.
Moon.
That boy … he called her Moon.
Why?
"Wenna! Are you okay?"
The urgent voice broke her thoughts. She turned her head and saw Gianna looking at her with concern.
Frowning slightly, Arwen pushed herself into a sitting position. What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Gianna sighed and handed her a glass of water. "You were talking in your sleep. I was just reading, and you almost scared me."
Talking in her sleep?
Arwen's gaze flickered around the room, taking in her surroundings. She was still in bed. Still in her room.
It had been a dream.
But it had felt so real —so vivid, as if she had actually been there, watching everything unfold with her own eyes.
Was it a dream … or a memory.
She remembered everything about her past. Didn't she?
"Wenna, what's wrong?" Gianna tugged gently at Arwen's arm. "Why do you look like you have stumbled upon a great mystery that must be solved?" She frowned. "'What is it? Tell me."
Arwen hesitated. She wanted to talk about it. To tell someone —to make sense of it. But how could she explain something she didn't even understand herself?
"Arwen —?"
Gianna was about to ask again, but before she could, Arwen shook her head. She placed her hand over Gianna, giving her a reassuring squeeze.
"It's nothing," she said. "It must really be just a dream. It felt so real that I couldn't stop thinking about it, but …it's nothing important."
"But —"
"Oh, look at the time," Arwen quickly glanced at the clock. "It's past midnight. Why are you still up?" she took the book from Gianna's lap and placed it on the side table. "Read the rest tomorrow. For now, sleep."
Gianna frowned, still unconvinced.
Arwen pressed her lips together. "What, Anna? I am serious. It's late."
She motioned towards the bedside lap. "Turn off the light and go to sleep. Don't just sit there staring at me."
With that she didn't wait for further protest.
She lay back down, closing her eyes.
After a moment, Gianna sighed and did the same, switching off the light.
Silence settled over the room.
Minutes passed.
Then slowly, Arwen opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling. Her expression unreadable. Her thoughts, however, were anything but calm.
Who was that boy?
And why had he called her Moon?
Aiden calls her that, but before him, she never remembers anyone calling her that.
No one, but him …
He possibly couldn't be that boy, could he?
But then, if he wasn't that boy, then who else could call her Moon?
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