TWO VOICES IN ONE SILENT BED (Anthropomorphic fiction)

DoveLina stirred in the morning light. Her paw brushed the quilt near DoveCiro, feathers trembling softly. “Why do we lie like strangers sometimes?” she asked, eyes tracing the curve of his wing. DoveCiro opened one eye. “I thought quiet meant love,” he murmured. “I didn’t know it could cage us.” “I miss the mornings when your laughter shook the branches,” she said. “When your words wrapped around me like wings in flight.” “I remember,” he said, reaching out. “I loved holding you then, feeling your heartbeat sync with mine. I forgot how loud silence can roar.” Her feathers twitched with a smile. “Do you remember the first night in this nest? We whispered secrets until the fog bowed beneath us.” He laughed, soft and low, shaking the air between them. “And I promised you the stars, even though I only had the moon.” “You gave me the moon,” she said. “And every night since, you make it shine brighter than I imagined.” DoveCiro nudged her shoulder with a gentle wing. “I hid my fears behind quiet. I thought it protected you, but it only built walls around our hearts.” Her paw met his. “Then we knock them down,” she said. “Even if the bed creaks. Even if the walls eavesdrop. Let us speak, truly.” He leaned closer, nose brushing hers. “Tell me what your heart says, Lina. Not just words, but the song beneath them.” “I am afraid of losing you,” she whispered. “Not to another, not to anger, not to time but to silence. To nights where our voices vanish before dawn.” “And I am afraid too,” he admitted. “I let quiet become armor, but it left me exposed. I let fear steal what should have been ours.” DoveLina curled closer, feathers brushing his chest. “Then let me remind you,” she said, “our love is fire, and our hearts are wings. I will sing, and you will soar with me. We will not let silence rule.” DoveCiro traced her paw with gentle claws. “I will listen. I will speak. I will carry every word of yours like feathers in my heart.” “I will hold yours the same,” she said. “And when storms come, we will weather them together. When the wind shakes the branches, we will laugh. When shadows fall, we will light them with our own flame.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You are my nest, Lina. My home. My heart learns its song from you every day.” “And you are mine, Ciro,” she whispered. “Every dawn, every dusk, every stolen minute. Even when the world sleeps, we will wake our love.” Outside, the fog lifted. Sunlight draped over the nest like a blessing. The leaves leaned closer, listening, approving. For the first time in many mornings, the bed did not feel silent. It sang with them soft, fierce, alive. Two voices, once muted, now rising together. Two hearts learning to speak, to love, and to burn without fear.

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