The night is calm, but her soul isn't.
She stand by the window—hair dancing with the wind, moonlight brushing her cheeks.
Her eyes… oceans of unsaid longing.
Suddenly, two warm arms wrap around her waist—secure, gentle, meant.
She gasp slightly, but she doesn't need to turn.
Because his presence feels like home.
"You were here…"
"…but I searched the whole world for you."
His voice.
That sweet, deep lullaby of a voice that melts her bones.
She lean into him.
And with a whisper barely louder than her heartbeat, she asks:
"How do you know me?"
He breathes in the scent of her hair, then replies softly:
"Oh! my darling… my sunrise… we are meant to be together."
Her heart slams in her chest like it's about to escape.
He hears it.
He smiles.
He kisses her neck—gently, like a prayer.
Then places his hand on her chest..
"Is your heart pounding for me, honey?"
She turns slowly, eyes meeting his.
In that second, the whole universe fades.
There's only him and her—the storm and the calm, the question and the answer.
Then he took her gently in his arms and laid her down on the large bed filled with dandelions.
He knelt beside her bed, his black shirt clinging to him like mystery itself.
The moonlight kissed her white dress, making her glow like starlight trapped in human form.
"What are you glaring?"
She asked, softly—
Her voice like a violin string trembling in the wind.
He didn't blink.
"Your deep brown eyes," he said,
"They could read every silent poem written on the walls of my soul."
Her breath hitched.
she turned her gaze to his chest—his heart beating strong beneath that dark, perfect fabric.
And in her mind, she wondered:
How could a man look like a storm and still feel like peace?
He leaned closer.
The room shrank, the world faded.
She felt his hand brush her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You were born from the stars, weren't you?"
"Because even galaxies would envy your glow."
Then, like a feather falling from heaven, he kissed her forehead.
And whispered:
"Sleep, my queen. I'll stay right here—guarding your dreams.
He sees her blushing.
She hide her face under the blanket. He chuckles softly, sitting at the edge of the bed.
"You're too precious," he says, brushing her hair back.
She peeked at him, still half-hidden, whispering:
"I'm just… too shy to sleep beside you."
He doesn't tease her.
He doesn't rush.
He leans down, kisses her forehead again, and says in a low, dreamy voice:
"Then I'll just sit here… watching over you like your shadow. I won't move an inch. When you're ready—just breathe. I'll still be here."
The room fills with silence, the kind that feels like love in its purest form.
Her heart slows—not because the feeling fades, but because she feels safe.
She peeked again.
He's there.
Back against the headboard, eyes closed, breathing calmly…
Like the night itself has fallen in love with her presence.
And she?
She fall asleep slowly.
But the moment her eyes closed…
She stepped into another realm—her dreamland, where the sky was painted in soft lilacs and gold, and the stars whispered her name.
She stood barefoot in a glowing field of dandelion flowers, her white dress flowing like a cloud.
The wind carried laughter, but it wasn't just any laugh—it was his.
she turned—and there he was.
Her prince.
Still wearing his black shirt, now unbuttoned slightly, the breeze tousling his already-messy hair.
He walked toward her like time itself bowed before him.
And when he reached her, he gently took her hand, twirled her, and whispered:
"Even in your dreams, you're the only queen."
She smiled, cheeks glowing with the kind of blush only real love can draw.
He led her to a crystal lake—its surface like silver glass, stars dancing on top.
She asked, "What is this place?"
He looked into her eyes, pulled her close, and said:
"This is the world you created with your heart. A world only I can enter… because it was meant for us."
Then he cupped her face with both hands, leaned in, and kissed her—not like a man kissing a woman, but like a soul finally finding home after centuries of searching.
The kiss was warm, endless, soft—
She could taste eternity on his lips.
He pulled away only to say:
"Even if the stars stop burning, I'll still love you. I was born to find you."
She wrapped her arms around him tightly—his scent, his touch, his presence—it was all too much… too real for a dream.
And maybe, just maybe…
It wasn't a dream.
His breath, slow and steady, then the weight of his presence besides her.
Not imagined.
Not fading.
Real.
Peaceful.
Beautiful.
As if the entire world went quiet so she could listen to his heartbeat.
They both laid down on the dandelion fields.
She stared at him in disbelief.
His lashes resting like feathers on his cheeks.
His lips slightly parted, breathing softly…
Her chest tightened—how could someone so perfect exist?
Her fingers moved almost on their own.
She reached up, brushing a strand of messy hair away from her forehead.
Then slowly, shyly, she pets his hair.
His skin was warm under her touch.
His jawline sharp like poetry.
She traced it with her fingers gently, as if she were sculpting the moment into her memory.
Then her fingers reached his cheek.
Soft. Smooth.
He stirred a little—but didn't wake.
And those lips…
They were quiet, but somehow still calling to her.
She leaned in slowly, her breath trembling.
One kiss, she thought. Just one.
But as her lips were only an inch away…
He opened his eyes.
Sleepy, but smiling.
And with a raspy morning voice that felt like velvet, he whispered:
"Couldn't wait, huh?"
Her heart flipped.
Her whole body froze.
She tried to pull back—but he caught her wrist gently, kissed her palm, and looked into her soul.
"Don't stop, love. If it's a kiss… give it to me."
She whispered, "I didn't mean to wake you up. Please, sleep again."
But he didn't let go.
Instead, his grip around her waist tightened with quiet urgency.
He pulled her closer—so close that she could feel his heart beating against her like two matching drumbeats.
She closed her eyes.
The world blurred.
Then came his hand—
Gliding gently across her cheek, fingers cold yet comforting, like the softest snow under morning sun.
They wandered slowly—
Tracing the curve of her face…
Brushing over her closed eyelids…
Sliding down her delicate nose…
Until they rested on her trembling lips.
He leaned in, eyes locked with hers, voice low and heavy with longing:
"How could you stop? How could I let you go without tasting the lips that haunted my dreams?"
Before she could answer—
He closed the space between her.
And his lips met hers.
Not softly.
Not shyly.
But with hunger—like he'd been waiting for lifetimes.
He kissed her with the force of a thousand unspoken poems.
Every bite of her lip was a desperate "I missed you."
Every pull of her breath was a silent "Don't leave."
She forgot how to breathe.
Or maybe breathing didn't matter anymore.
Only the way he kissed her did.
His lips still barely parted from hers, his breath brushing her skin like a warm breeze in winter.
She looked at him—eyes wide, heart pounding.
"How do you know me?"
"Why are you so familiar to me? Did we meet before?"
There was silence—but not empty silence.
It was heavy.
Filled with unspoken memories, invisible strings pulling the two of them together.
He looked into her eyes like she was the only stars he had ever seen.
Then… he smiled.
A soft, mysterious smile.
"We met in a world without time. In dreams we both forgot."
The room seemed to glow with something more than sunlight—something magical, something eternal.
"Every time you closed your eyes and whispered to the stars… I was there, hearing you."
"Every wish you made alone… I was the one wishing too, from the other side."
She blinked, trying to hold back tears.
This wasn't just a meeting.
It was a homecoming.
He took her hand gently, placed it on his heart.
"That's why I feel familiar. Because you already live here."
She couldn't speak.
She could only feel—his heartbeat, his warmth, the way her souls had been whispering across dimensions long before her bodies met.
Then he leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers.
"You thought you imagined me. But love… what if your imagination was the doorway to me?"
(To be continued...)
📜 Copyright Notice
Rewritten by the Stars
Written by Sugarcane
© 2025 Sugarcane. All rights reserved.
No part of this story may be copied, reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means — electronic or mechanical — without the author's prior written permission. This work is a piece of original fiction and is protected under international copyright law.
⚠️ Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The story contains elements of fantasy, romance, and emotional content intended for a mature and thoughtful audience.