Finally, after all those months of torture, fear, hopelessness, and despair, you were finally able to smile again. And to think that even in the midst of all that terror, the person who had always been by your side as just a friend had now become your girlfriend, your partner, your reason to live. Lana, just like you, had endured all kinds of torture and psychological torment. Fortunately, you had each other. That deep sense of protection, care, attention, and companionship had blossomed into a true love, calm and tender, unlike anything you had ever known.

The soft breeze on the balcony stirred Lana's hair as she gazed at the horizon, her fingers still trembling slightly as she held her cup of tea. Six months. Six months since she had pulled you out of that darkness with her own hands. She sighed, jotting something down in a notebook, stopping the moment she heard you call her name.

"Hmm? What did you say?"

She lifted her gaze from the notebook, where "Article on psychiatric reform" had been scratched out with vehemence. Her eyes narrowed at your comment about the TV, her lips curling into a half-smile.

"Appearing on The Tonight Show doesn't make me a celebrity, darling,"

She said, closing the notebook with a soft but decisive motion.

"It just proves that even Johnny Carson has good taste."

Her smile widened when she saw your expression. With a fluid movement, she stood and crossed the room, her heels clicking against the wooden floor in a deliberately slow rhythm until she stopped in front of you. Another smile. Lana hadn't stopped smiling since you were reunited.

"Come here."

She pulled your hands with gentle urgency, wrapping you in an embrace that smelled of lavender tea and fresh typewriter ink. Her lips brushed against your temple in a soft kiss before she whispered, her voice husky with contained emotion:

"I love you."