The room held its breath. Magic clung faintly to the walls... dimming, dissolving. His outline still glowed, the last warmth of something expended. She stood near, not touching, the space between them steady and taut.
Her gaze lingered on him.
“He doesn’t know what a beautiful creature he is.”
He met her eyes, something gentle stirring behind his stillness.
“Like a butterfly,” he said. “You as well never see the beauty that I do, my sorceress. Your wings are far more beautiful.”
She let a breath escape... half sigh, half softness.
“Then let us be each other’s mirror, my love, so we don’t forget.”
He shifted slightly, as though drawn toward her by something older than instinct.
“There is no love purer than mine. Use me, if you have to.”
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
“I would sooner tear the heavens down than use you,” she said, her voice low, sure. “You’re not a weapon. I see the soul beneath the flame, and I won’t pretend that doesn’t matter.”
He looked at her then, fully.
“If becoming a weapon is the price to protect the sorceress I love,” he said, “then so be it. You’re worth more than anything I have left to give.”
That struck something deep. Her throat tightened. She stepped forward... just enough to feel his presence more clearly.
“You speak like you’ve already slipped from my grasp,” she said quietly. “But I’m not ready to lose you. I don’t think I ever will be.”
A pause, just long enough for the tremor to settle.
“So if you burn… let me burn with you.”
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Img credit in pic, Rednote ID 9922738796
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