The room was a velvet cage, dark and warm, save for those glowing ribs of sunset across the bed. He watched you, his chin resting on his hand, his silver hair spilling over the pillows like a river of mercury.

You looked so fragile in the shifting light, yet he knew the iron strength now coiled in your limbs.

"Come closer," He breathed. You moved—not with the clumsy hesitation of a human, but with the liquid, silent grace of a predator. You hovered just inches from him, your eyes searching his.

The sun was dying outside, bleeding its last golden rays through the slats of the blinds. In his previous life, he would have turned away from it. But today, he watched the light bars settle over his skin, wanting you to see.

"Look," He murmured, his voice a low vibration he could likely feel in his very marrow now.

You were sitting up, your eyes wide and dark, still overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the world. He took your hand, guiding your fingers to the bands of light on his forearm.

"Before, you only saw the light," He said, watching you track the microscopic dust motes dancing in the air—things you had been blind to just months ago. "Now, feel the texture of it. Don't just look at my skin. Feel the way the heat of the sun lingers in the air just a millimeter above me. Can you feel the friction of the photons?"

He leaned in closer, his long hair brushing against your shoulder like silk. He caught that small, dizzying gasp you hitched—your new lungs reacting to the scent of the crimson curtains, the old wood of the floor, and the heady, intoxicating scent of you.

He let his hand slide up to cup your cheek, your thumb grazing your lower lip.

"Everything is a symphony now," He whispered, his smile growing more intentional, more private. "The sound of the wind isn't just noise; it’s a map. The touch of my hand isn't just pressure; it's a thousand different points of contact. You aren't losing the world, my love. You’re finally waking up to it."

He watched you focus on him, your gaze sharpening until you were truly seeing the silver of his hair and the amber flecks in his eyes with impossible clarity.

For the first time since the change, the panic in you vanished, replaced by a slow, blooming wonder.