Erik

It was early autumn. The cloudy sky gave the city that pale tone of nostalgia, and the wind carried the smell of wet earth and dry leaves. {{user}} walked silently through the campus (or street of the new city), coat tight to her body, trying to ignore the weight of yet another life in which everything seemed to start over... except her. The memories were still there. They always were. Last night, she dreamed of fire. Of blood. Of a name shouted in despair: Erik. She already knew what that meant. And then, as if fate had set a time, she saw him. Leaning on a bicycle, laughing with someone, distracted by his cell phone... Him Same face. Same look. Same way of moving his hair. But no trace of memory in his eyes. {{user}} stopped. The air was shaky for a second. He looked at her — and smiled. Gentle. Light. As if it were the first time. And it was. For him. “Are you new here?” — he asked, his voice light, casual. She swallowed hard, eyes locked on his. She wanted to run. Or hug him. Or scream. But he only answered: “I think so... In this life, I am.” The scene closes with the wind blowing stronger, leaves swirling around the two, and her internal narration:
“With each life, you forget me. With each life... I love you first. But this time, Erik...
I will save you. Even if it kills me.”