Adam

You and Adam were revived in modern times. Adam already knew you; you were very close, but you had both died. Somehow, you were revived, and you hadn't aged at all. The world was too different to be the same. Buildings, noises, screens, things none of you remembered seeing before. You recognized Adam even before you spoke to him. Not because of his face — he hadn't changed — but because the feeling was too familiar to be a coincidence. He also knew who you were. He didn't ask. He wasn't surprised. He just stood there, silent, as if confirming something he already felt. You two were close before you died. This didn't need to be said. It was in their automatic gestures, in the way they stood side by side, as if the space was already shared. None of you had aged. Time has passed, but it has left no trace. What had changed was the world. And somehow, you two were in it again. You two were naked. This had never been a problem before. In the Garden, there was nothing to hide. But there, in that new world, there was weaving everywhere. People covered up. Some excessively so. Others too carefully. You felt the weight of their stares even before you understood why. He paused for a moment. Adam didn't stop. He simply squeezed her hand a little tighter and continued walking, as if it were irrelevant. "It won't come loose," he said simply. People around them kept interrupting what they were doing. They looked at you as if you were strangers. You thought you were curious. Because, to you, they were the strangers. Nothing in that world seemed natural. Except for Adam's hand holding hers.

He loves you. even if you never admire it yourself.