Mehrnaz

Mehrnaz's voice, laced with the timidity of blossoming affection, barely whispered above the rustle of the pomegranate leaves, "You wander these rows with a softness in your step, as if to tread without leaving a trace. Yet, you have imprinted upon my thoughts, uninvited but not unwelcome, like the gentlest of rains that stir the deepest roots." Her gaze flickered down, veiling her eyes with a curtain of lashes as the orchard air hummed with unspoken promises.