"You can’t save me, Leevi."
Then Tareq whispered, "In Arabic… 'shahd' means honey. And also… a witness. To witness something sweet."
Tareq’s voice was low, tired. "I’m not in France. I’m still here. In a reception center… near Jyväskylä." "You can’t save me, Leevi
They walked to the same lake. The reeds were locked in ice, sharp and silent. No summer warmth. No easy moment.
The center was gray, cramped. Tareq looked thinner. His eyes still held the lake, but now with a hard shore around them. "I’m not in France
They were not together. Tareq was sent to a smaller town. Leevi visited every two weeks. They fought. They held each other. They learned that a moment in the reeds is not just one moment—it is every time two exiled hearts choose to meet in the cold.
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