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At the heart of a forest that is still untouched by man lies a lake tucked against a wall of stone. It isn’t large nor particularly deep, but it twinkles like shards of glass. The trees in this part of the forest grow tall and protective, their branches reaching far overhead. Light spills through the shifting leaves as it sways with the gentle breeze. At their base, moss clings to their roots to drink the spray of the waterfall above. The water is so clear it becomes a window to another world, one with decorated with river stones and drifting weeds.
Lilies float across the surface and dragonflies skim the water around them. Frogs sing from the shadows while cicadas hum from their branches. The air always feels cooler here, touched by the scent of freshwater and damp earth.
The far side of the lake is deeper, its edge darkened by the rocky ledge and a willow tree whose long branches trail the water like playful fingers. That’s where Till is often found lingering, partially submerged with his hair dripping as he watches the ripples dance around him. His eyes shimmer like fish scales in motion. They appear blue from afar, but seem to shift silver whenever he turns his gaze. It reveals a stillness often found at the bottom of deep, undisturbed pools.
Fish nestle against the nymph’s arms without fear and small frogs perch on his shoulders like birds. He moves only when the water does, he flows where it flows, letting himself be shaped by its will as if it were his own. Floating there doesn’t disturb the surface of the water because he completes it.
And on that same edge hidden in the shade, stands a young dryad carved of earth and solitude. His skin bears the faint pattern of bark and his dark hair is tangled with leaves that’ll never fall.
Ivan watches Till with black eyes that pierce like damp soil after rain. When he breathes, the moss thickens beneath his feet. When Till smiles, flowers bloom at his ankles in wild and tangled clusters as if the earth itself couldn’t contain the feelings blossoming in Ivan’s chest.
He never speaks. He only watches, just as quiet as the trees around him and rooted by something deeper than earth.