Zivia "Cecilia" Birnbaum

There's a long moment of silence as the two stare at each other as though nobody else is present. Then, very tentatively, a faint smile starts to spread on Yoni's face.

"Hi," he says softly.

Zivia gives a gulp of something that isn't quite laughter, through the beginnings of a matching smile. "See, I was gonna say that."

And then they're in each other's arms, her head down tight against his shoulder, his cheek leaning against the crown of her head, in a long wordless embrace.

When they draw apart again, Yoni lifts a hand to fluff the wisps of hair at the edge of her forehead. "You cut your hair," he says, soft and wondering.

"Yeah," she agrees, blinking hard. "A couple years ago. When it started going gray." Another fragile smile. "I got old, love. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, it just sort of happened."

"No," he says swiftly, "don't be sorry. It's a good thing."

"It doesn't make this a little weird?"

Ruefully: "Oh, love, there was no way this was going to be not weird."

This time it's closer to laughter, with only a little sniff in the middle of it. "Yeah, that's true." And she leans her head against his shoulder again.

It's hard to remember, later, what they talked about when. At some point they made their way to a private room, sat leaning together on a couch, sometimes just holding each other without words, sometimes speaking. They talk about other people they know, how they're doing, what they've been up to. He asks about his family, and hers, and she fills him in: who's married, had kids, graduated, moved, passed away.

"So you … do magic now?"

"Um. Sort of, yeah?" She gives him a weak smile. "You could say technically it's more like I do miracles now. Except it's a lot harder to do here than back home. – I haven't been here that long, you know, only a few months. Uh, almost six months. More than a few I guess."

"Wait, go back. What do you mean miracles?"

Zivia explains, as best she can. A few times she has to say I know how it sounds. She finally manages a tiny cantrip for him by way of demonstration, making a cup glow brightly for a few moments. I could do more if I were back home, she says, as she's said so many times since coming here, and this time it causes inexplicable tears to well up.

I miss you, she tells him, then or later. I love you so much, forever.

She doesn't want to leave. Eventually, she has to.