Violet stirred awake before I did, her gentle rustling nudging me from sleep. She slipped out of bed without a word, but something heavy pinned me in place, a weight not on my body, but in my thoughts.
I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling as a single thought looped through my mind: What if we really could control time with our thoughts?
It sounded absurd, like something ripped from a novel I hadn't written yet, but how could I deny what we'd already lived through? Not once, but twice.
I stayed there, motionless, until Violet emerged from the bathroom.
"Feel like being a sloth today?" she teased, her fingers grazing my abdomen as she sat beside me.
"Check your phone," I said flatly.
She raised an eyebrow but did as I said, unlock attempt after attempt failed. Her screen remained dead. Time, too, had gone silent.
"It happened again?" she asked cautiously. I shook my head. "No... I made it happen."
Saying it aloud made it real in a way that left a strange taste in my mouth. Ridiculous, and yet, right outside the window, the world had stopped. Clouds frozen mid-drift, birds suspended like marionettes waiting for a cue.
"…You can control it?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.
I pushed myself up from the mattress, my limbs heavy with disbelief. "We can. You did it yesterday, when you skipped the whole day like flipping a page in a book. And I did it the night before, when I stopped time. This… this is real, Violet. I think we actually have powers."
The words sounded deranged, even to me. Anyone else would call me delusional, even with the sky standing still right outside.
She didn't respond at first. Her eyes narrowed in concentration, lost in some private corner of her mind, and then-
Tick.
It was faint, but I felt it.
Time resumed, like a soft wind brushing past us. But more than that, I felt her. Not just beside me, or even in front of me, but within me. As though something deep had opened up between us, invisible and ancient.
Our eyes snapped to each other, wide with understanding, or disbelief, or fear, or all three. Her shocked expression cracked into a grin. Not just amused, deliriously stunned, a little unhinged, but glowing all the same.
"I don't know if this is cool or insane," she said, laughing breathlessly.
"It's both!" I laughed back.
We stood at the window like kids discovering fire. Below us, Yggdrasil swayed gently, bathed in still light. We took turns toggling time, pausing it, starting it again, like flicking a cosmic light switch.
Wonder lit up both our faces, but just as quickly, a sharp wave of exhaustion crashed over us. My legs nearly gave out beneath me. I looked down, and saw it.
Yggdrasil's leaves. Dimming. The violet glow was flickering, faint. Fading.
I staggered forward, muscles aching with a fatigue I didn't understand. Violet had already slid down the wall, eyes half-closed, her strength slipping.
I crawled to her, arms trembling, catching her just as the edges of everything began to blur. The void, soft, waiting, endless, reached for us both.
And we fell into it. Together.
We woke at the same time, our eyes meeting in mutual confusion. Something had shifted, again.
Violet looked up at me, her gaze unfocused, eyes glazed as if she were still halfway in another world.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly.
I nodded, though I barely had the strength to keep my head upright.
She seemed slightly more recovered than I was, not by much, but in that moment, any advantage was something.
"…Water the plant," I murmured, the thought barely formed but instinctual.
She gave me a puzzled look, but trusted it enough to listen. Shakily, she pushed herself to her feet, grabbing the half-full bottle we always kept near Yggdrasil. She uncapped it and poured slowly into the soil.
We both felt it instantly, like the first sip of cold water after hours in the heat. A rush, not just refreshing but reviving, like something sacred passing through us.
Violet paused, her hand hovering near the leaves.
"…Are we connected to this plant?"
Strength began to return to my limbs. I forced myself upright.
"I mean… maybe? What if our powers are tied to Yggdrasil?"
It was bizarre. And yet, oddly poetic. A couple brings home a bonsai, names it after a mythical tree, and soon after, begins to manipulate time and feel each other's presence on a level beyond human comprehension. If I read it in a novel, I might've rolled my eyes, but here, it felt like gravity.
I rushed to my computer, and she followed.
First search: Yggdrasil.
The World Tree. The great cosmic ash connecting the Nine Realms in Norse mythology. I'd always found the concept interesting, but never truly dove into it. Now, I couldn't tear my eyes away.
We both scrolled through ancient names, theories, diagrams, digging for anything that might explain our experience.
Then her voice cut through the quiet.
"Hey… I think I put something together."
I turned in my chair to face her.
"So, I couldn't find much about anyone gaining a connection to Yggdrasil, besides Odin, when he hung himself from it to gain knowledge." She paused, searching my face. "But there's this other figure, Mimir. Some believe the well he guards isn't just near Yggdrasil, but is part of it."
I nodded slowly, piecing it together.
"Mimir was the one with all the wisdom, right?" I smirked. "You feeling any smarter?"
She laughed and exhaled. "No, not really."
Still, the thought lingered. Odin's self-sacrifice to gain the knowledge of runes. Mimir's eternal wisdom. Every myth tied to Yggdrasil came back to one thing: understanding. Knowledge. Hidden truths.
"Maybe we're reading too much into this," I admitted. "I named the tree on a whim."
She sighed and slumped down to the floor beside my desk.
"Maybe. But even if it's not myth-level magic, we should still try to understand this tree more. And whatever this power is."
I nodded, standing up and stretching the last of the dizziness from my body.
Just then, Rocket, our kitten, let out a dramatic meow, like the world had forgotten to feed him for days.
"Alright, alright," I muttered, pouring food and water into his bowls.
He calmed down vocally, but not physically, bouncing off every wall like a living pinball machine. Fitting, given the name.
Sometimes, I wonder if I'll ever be able to express my love for her enough.
Even now, as she sits curled up reading my latest chapter, all I can do is watch her, like I'm some outsider lucky enough to witness a divine being at rest. The glow of her phone lit her face gently, her glasses catching a glint of light. She looked so serene, as if the entire universe had left her in peace. No burdens. No rush.
My heart fluttered.
A quiet smile crept across my face as I stood and made my way to the kitchen, still thinking about her every step of the way. I turned on the stove, setting the pan down and starting the rice cooker. Butter melted into the pan with a faint hiss as I sprinkled in a light touch of spices. I quartered two chicken breasts, seasoning them generously, then diced a green onion and set it aside.
Flour. Egg. Panko.
Each cutlet got a perfect, even coating before landing in the gently crackling oil.
By the time the rice was finished, the air smelled warm and savory. I spooned a neat portion into a bowl, topped it with a pinch of the fresh onion, and laid the golden chicken cutlets over top. A drizzle of light soy sauce, a swirl of katsu sauce. Another sprinkle of green onion, just enough to balance the richness.
I poured her a glass of red wine and brought the tray to her just as she was finishing the chapter.
Her eyes lit up the moment she saw it. She didn't waste a second, scooping up a bite with a little of everything, blowing gently before tasting.
And then it happened, that look.
The way her whole body seemed to melt from the inside out, the way her face relaxed like I'd just lifted a thousand invisible weights off her shoulders. It was like I could see the pleasure roll through her, spine to toes.
She smiled mid-chew, her head falling back in slow delight.
"Thank you," she managed through a stuffed mouth, beaming.
God, I love seeing her like this. I live for that look.
Her eyes found mine again. That gaze of hers, so full of something eternal, it stole the breath right from my chest.
"Once again, thank you, baby," she said, her voice soft and rich.
I reached for her hand, raising it to my lips and pressing a slow, meaningful kiss to the back. One long enough that she'd feel everything I meant by it.
"Of course, my love," I murmured. "Something like that didn't deserve a thank you."
She rolled her eyes with a playful scoff.
"Well, I'm thanking you anyway, idiot."
Her fingers brushed my cheek, gliding across the scruff of my not-so-well-kept goatee. Then she leaned in and kissed me, softly, like time didn't matter.
Every nanosecond of it felt like the answer to a question I didn't know I'd been asking.
I smiled as she pulled away, dazed but happy.
"And that was for?" I asked, still catching my breath.
She smirked, eyes gleaming.
"What was the food for?"
I huffed, dragging the words out just like she would.
"No reaaason…"
She mirrored my smile.
"And I could say the exact same."