The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the orchard as Farah walked between rows of apple trees, her basket already half full. The fruits were ripening early this year—sweet, crisp, and glowing red under the leaves.
Nael trailed behind her, doing his best to be helpful.
"So," he said, picking an apple and tossing it gently. "What do you do with all these?"
"Sell some at the market. The rest goes into jams, pies, cider."
"Ever made cider with a guy who nearly ruined your rose garden?"
Farah shot him a glance. "You're still on thin ice."
Nael laughed and bit into the apple. "Totally worth it."
They walked in companionable silence for a while. The only sounds were birdsong, the rustling of leaves, and the occasional thump of fruit dropping into baskets.
"You ever get bored here?" he asked.
"No."
"Never crave something different?"
Farah stopped, brushing hair from her face. "Different isn't always better. The world rushes. This place doesn't."
Nael nodded, thoughtful. "You're like the farm," he said.
She blinked. "What?"
He smiled. "Rooted. You don't chase life. You let it grow around you."
She didn't know what to say to that, so she turned away—but not fast enough to hide the small smile tugging at her lips.
---
That evening, Nael sat on the roof of the barn with his camera, watching the sunset bleed orange and rose across the sky. Farah climbed up beside him without a word, handing him a cup of tea.
They sipped in silence.
"I used to think stillness was a trap," he said softly.
"And now?"
He glanced at her. "Now I think... maybe stillness is just another kind of journey."
The wind picked up. Farah pulled her sweater tighter and leaned just slightly closer.
"Your documentary," she asked. "Will it make you famous?"
Nael chuckled. "Doubt it. But I hope it makes someone feel something real."
She looked out at the land she loved. "Then you and I aren't so different."
Their eyes met.
And for a moment, in the hush of twilight and the weight of unspoken things, they both realized something was shifting between them—something gentle and powerful and terrifying.