It'd be easier if he could. If he could be any one thing, in any moment, and not this muddled mess. She's here and she's close and it'd be a lie to say he'd never thought of it, arms wrapping about her in turn. He presses his lips to her forehead, gentle, solemn.
You have chosen, and spilled the blood of innocence for power.
But not here and not now. In this moment, neither of them has to let go. For a little while, there's still a point that meets in the middle.
no subject
It'd be easier if he could. If he could be any one thing, in any moment, and not this muddled mess. She's here and she's close and it'd be a lie to say he'd never thought of it, arms wrapping about her in turn. He presses his lips to her forehead, gentle, solemn.
You have chosen, and spilled the blood of innocence for power.
But not here and not now. In this moment, neither of them has to let go. For a little while, there's still a point that meets in the middle.
For a little while they can pretend.