[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/twGNg3VP/09599872-9680-4b92-bbec-ac7e9578d595.png[/img][/center] [hr] [center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-mYdWEE63N0&list=RDMM0sv5N_bdELs&index=2[/youtube][/center] [center][i]Ignis 2: Evening[/i][/center] [color=gray] Roman stood on the balcony, remembering the first time he came up here. The guard movements, although well-planned, are predictable, and the lamp at the back of the manor flickers for just a moment—still a moment long enough to slip by unnoticed. The path up to the balcony while evading the guards was also tricky, but with a strong grip, there were a few good handholds that were not illuminated. There were only a few awkward moments of having to be still on the side of the wall while a patrol passed underneath. Those were good times, and security has only improved now. He still got up here with minimal suspicion. After tonight, he didn’t think he would need to do this again. The door leading to the balcony was slightly ajar, and he couldn’t hear anyone inside. Slowly, he slid it open. All he could do was wait and listen. After a few minutes of not hearing a thing, Roman took the chance to etch a small rune under the balcony railing. It wasn’t magical. No, this one was more of a prayer—a rune of protection. Violet closed the door behind her with a quiet click, the soft murmur of the house fading into silence. Night had fully claimed the estate, and the moonlight poured through her open balcony doors, carrying with it a cool, refreshing breeze. The curtains swayed gently, ghostlike in the dim light. Her thoughts spinning…[i]her killer…[/i] He was there for a little while, sitting on the balcony looking up at the stars, when he finally heard it: the door in the room opening. Making sure he didn’t hear anyone else, Roman put the blindfold over his face and stood by the balcony. Violet slipped off her heels by the vanity and crossed into the powder room. The faint scent of lavender and rosewater filled the air as she undid the pins in her hair, letting the long, dark strands fall freely over her shoulders. Her evening gown rustled as she changed into a light silk nightdress adorned with lace and her normal raven embellishments. Feeling the chill from the open balcony, she stepped back into her bedroom, intent on closing the doors before bed… But stopped. A shape moved beyond the gauzy curtains. Tall. Still. Watching. Her breath caught, and for a moment, all sound seemed to vanish except the slow flutter of the drapes. The moonlight traced the outline of a figure standing on her balcony. Her mind couldn’t help but race; it wasn’t Alexander…or maybe it was? Violet's arms wrapped around herself instinctively as she slowly approached her balcony. His heart raced with every step he could hear the person take. He was sure it was her; it had to be her; it must be her. Anyone else would have called for the guards by now. Roman stepped just to where he could feel the curtains behind him and knelt down onto his knees, his eyes behind the blindfold looking towards the ground. His voice was just above a whisper and filled with sorrow. Her breath caught. Her arms unwrapped themselves as she braced herself against the frame of her door. Her scarlet eyes looked down at the large man, so small now as he knelt before blindfolded. [color=f26522]“Please do not say who you are. These words are for Lady Violet Damien whether she is here or not…”[/color] He couldn’t risk seeing her. Right now, he could lie to Erik, tell him he hadn’t spoken or heard from Violet. But if he saw her, then there was no going back from that. [color=f26522]“An apology... if you think she would want it.”[/color] [i][center][color=#4C93C2]“Do not burden yourself with that, Violet. Roman’s behavior was not the work of his own interests. What you saw was no man in control of himself, but a pawn moved by another hand.”[/color][/center][/i] Her father's words whispered in her mind as if it were a haunting hand pulling her. Her heart raced wildly in her chest as she continued to watch him. Was he indeed a man in no control of himself? A pawn… Yet beyond everything, here he was. [color=firebrick]” Violet is not here…”[/color] She wasn’t lying in a sense but her voice would likely tell him all he needed to know. [color=firebrick]”I imagine she would be relieved to know you are in good health…As for the apology.”[/color] The world around them grew silent, the sound of the night's breeze haunting in its emptiness. [color=firebrick]”I am unsure if Lady Violet would accept it, but I am sure she would at least give you a chance to speak.”[/color] He could feel himself trembling, a shake in his shoulders and joints. The raw sensation of burnt-out, overstimulated nerves. His face was flushed red, and beads of sweat formed on his skin. He opened and closed his mouth several times before settling on the words. [color=f26522]“I told her once that my actions are not my own. I… I don't believe she understood what I meant by that. The lengths I would be forced to go to.”[/color] This was a shit way to start this apology, and his worsening tremors only furthered his frustration. Violet's crimson gaze moved to him, her eyes softening slightly as she noticed his body tremor. [color=f26522]“I know not to call their bluff when they order me to do these things… The control I do have is fleeting, and there is always someone watching.”[/color] His mind was getting foggy, but he still pressed on. [color=f26522]“I’ve tried to run before, when I was barely a man. I used that freedom and took my training partner… my friend, my first love…”[/color] His hands balled into fists on his knees, white knuckles clenching against the painful memory. [color=f26522]“We went through hell together, grew up together, fought together, bled together, were punished together. Never one without the other… Our last test, a test of faith and loyalty to the cause. It was a choice, not an order.”[/color] His tremors steadily became worse, shaking his body and voice, but still he kept it together. [color=f26522]“Prove yourself and… kill your partner.”[/color] His words were heavy on his voice and in his chest. Roman didn't know why he was retelling this story. The trauma from the morning events, maybe? Seeing what he did to that boy. Could be exhaustion from the magic use earlier. Yet it was a story he had not repeated to another. The weight of his own trauma was bound to his soul. He lifted his head, looking at her as if he could see her through his blindfold. [color=f26522]“We ran. They still found us a few days later in the mountains… That's when I was given my first order… to murder the young man I had fallen in love with. It nearly killed me… trying to resist it… refusing an order causes pain and more... That pain… it nearly tore me apart…”[/color] He let the silence fill the space between them. [color=f26522]“That's why I have to do as I'm ordered… they won't hesitate to tell me to remove the problem. Regardless of my thoughts or feelings…”[/color] Dropping his head, he could do little other than try to calm himself down. Violet's hand extended her fingers reaching towards him, hovering just near his face. They hesitated, slowly dropping back to her side. [color=f26522]“I'm expendable… Just another weapon,”[/color] he whispered to himself. She didn’t breathe. Couldn’t. Roman knelt there like a broken monument, trembling under the weight of memories he should never have had to carry but all Violet could feel was the tension tightening in her spine, pulling her in two opposing directions. She should take a step forward. She wanted to. He was shaking. Gods, he was shaking, and some part of her, the girl whose nose was always in a book, the girl raised to tend wounds, whether they were physical or unseen, wanted to reach out. [i]You are too easily swayed by emotion. They will use that against you.[/i] Her breath stuttered. Roman’s confession spilled into the space between them, a story soaked in pain, control, and loss so violent it gnawed at her ribs. But the more he spoke, the more she felt the ground shifting beneath her. Was this real? Was this calculated? Was she being guided again, pushed like a piece on a board she never agreed to play? Her fingers dug deeply into her palms. It was grounding her, reminding her to stay where she was. Not to drift closer. Not to let her empathy walk her into another snare. She could almost feel Alexander’s eyes on her. Watching. Waiting. Judging every softening of her expression, every doubt she held. Her heart was betraying her. Slamming in her chest, urging her to step out into the light, to kneel beside Roman, to peel away the blindfold and look into the truth of him. Roman was suffering. She saw it clearly. He wasn’t faking the tremors. Not the way his voice snagged on the edges of words that hurt him to say. Not the way his chest quivered with restrained sobs, he refused to let escape. She believed that much. But believing his pain didn’t mean believing his intentions. Not anymore. Not with the way the world around her had started to twist, one manipulation at a time, until even kindness tasted like poison. She let the silence sit. Heavy. Suffocating. Her lips parted as if she meant to speak, to apologize for her hesitation, or to offer comfort, but no words came. Every instinct battled itself until all she could manage was a small, barely audible breath. When she finally found her voice, it wasn’t empathy or forgiveness that surfaced. It wasn’t even anger. It was a distance. [color=firebrick]“…Ro-”[/color] she paused [color=firebrick]“Lord Ravenwood”[/color] she corrected herself. [color=firebrick]“I’m sorry you sit with those memories. I can’t even begin to fathom the pain you feel.”[/color] The cold air danced around them as her eyes slowly shut for just a breath before opening once more. [color=firebrick]” Trust was not something that came easily for Lady Violet. She gave that to you with secrets she had never spoken to another soul. Only to watch it be burned, maimed, and mocked in front of her family and the rest of the kingdom's nobles.”[/color] The pace of his heartbeat slowed, but his growing fever remained. His breath hitched, catching on every sound, every movement, hoping beyond hope that something was still there. Roman was very aware that it would not be; he knew and understood the toll he had exacted that night on them both. A part of him still held on, the part that wanted to run. The correction, stumbling from the intimacy of his given name into the cold formality of his title, landed with the weight of a final judgment. [i]Lord Ravenwood[/i]. It severed the thin thread he had foolishly tried to hold onto. The tremors in his hands calmed but did not vanish. He had thought, naively, that if she knew the why, she might forgive the what. But as that correction and her tone washed over him, recounting the public flaying of her trust, he realized the truth. It didn't matter whose hand held the chains if he was the one who struck the blow. Trauma explains; it does not excuse. He slowly lowered his hands from his knees, letting them hang limp at his sides. The fight left his shoulders with a deep, tired sigh. He knew he was just as at fault for this as those above him, but he would not allow himself to give in to his own self-loathing again. Not now. They were both hurting… would it always be this way? [color=f26522]“I cannot change what was done to her,”[/color] he said, his voice quiet and disturbingly steady, stripped of the frantic energy from moments before. [color=f26522]“I only wished to understand and be understood… yo-… she should not trust me. Not while I still have this curse. Anything said or shared will be used and twisted for the schemes of others.”[/color] A wetness at his left eye pulled his attention; it wasn’t tears this time. A check with his hand revealed it to be thicker, warmer. He knew it was blood. Time was running out. This was a problem; many things were problems. His mind raced through possibilities and their outcomes, trying to find something resembling a plan. [color=f26522]“I… I will try to break this curse… find a way… But…”[/color] His voice grew quiet again, distant. He forced himself to stand and step back towards the balcony, a drip of blood falling from his eye. [color=f26522]“We cannot do this; I refuse to endanger her life any more than I already have.”[/color] His head dropped again, and his words caught in his throat. [color=f26522]“Until this curse is broken… this will be my last message to her.”[/color] [i]Blood…[/i] The scent was unmistakable. Her crimson eyes snapped to him, frantic, locking onto the thin stream of red tracing down his cheek as the large man loomed before her. For a heartbeat, she didn’t move. Then slowly, and reluctantly, her hand rose. Her thumb brushed his skin, wiping the blood away with a tenderness that felt almost dangerous. The quiet night air taunted them as it swept across the balcony, indifferent and cold. He was willing to break what they had to protect her, to protect her from the thing she had already learned how to be. She did not want to be part of anyone’s schemes. No more schemes. No more cages disguised as care. She was done being shaped by other people’s ideas of what she should be, what she could be, what she was worth. Her hand lingered a moment longer on his face. There was so much she could say. She said none of it. Her hand fell back to her side as she took a step away. For a moment, she simply stood there, fingers curling slowly into the fabric at her gown, grounding herself in the pressure. The air felt thinner now, as if charged and brittle, as though one wrong word might shatter what little composure remained. When she finally spoke, her voice was not raised. It didn’t need to be. Instead, it was soft and calm. [color=firebrick]“No.”[/color] A beat. [color=firebrick]“You do not decide this for her.”[/color] She lifted her gaze to him. It was not pleading, not softened. Steady. [color=firebrick]“If you leave because you believe she deserves better, because you tell yourself that your absence is her salvation.”[/color] Her breath caught, only slightly. [color=firebrick]“—then you are like everyone else. You are still choosing for her.”[/color] Silence stretched between them. [color=firebrick]“She is already in danger. She is already afraid every moment she draws breath.”[/color] [color=firebrick]“She drinks blood to survive. She has killed to keep herself breathing, taking the breath of others so she may continue to live this miserable existence. Alone. ”[/color] Her voice did not waver. [color=firebrick]“And it will only be a matter of time before she becomes the hunted.”[/color] Another pause. [color=firebrick]“If you must walk away to survive, then go.”[/color] [color=firebrick]“But do not dress it as mercy.”[/color] Her fingers flexed once at her side. [i][color=firebrick]“Everything she is has already been decided by others. Why not this too…”[/color][/i] He kept quiet as she spoke, hanging onto every word, every phrase. He was starting to understand, starting to see where he was wrong. How she felt. The choice was what she wanted. Did he believe she was better off without him? Maybe. But was he better off without her? He wanted her. She was dangerous, but so was he. Their paths were dangerous, and he could very well be sent to kill her. But he had a choice, too. How… How could he break free? The knowledge was there, but the curse’s influence would always stop him. He needed help; he couldn’t do it himself. Her hand reached up and removed the blindfold from his eyes. Moonlight spilled over her pale skin, catching in the red of her gaze as she looked up at him, fully seen, fully present, unflinching. Until she saw his eyes, a small gasp escaped her lips as concern washed over her face. Her composure slipped as she soaked in the state of his eyes. [color=firebrick]“Roman…”[/color] she breathed. His thoughts abruptly stopped when he heard her shift and felt her hands on his head. Her choice. His eyes locked onto hers. Aside from their change in color and the broken blood vessels, they were heavy, filled with sorrow and a newfound determination—a feeling he thought he’d left buried on that mountain with his first love. [color=f26522]“My magic is powerful and always comes with a cost,”[/color] he whispered, while her crimson eyes searched his face. His eyes stayed with hers, taking in her features as if seeing her in a new light. Like he was looking at a new person entirely. Not the shy bookworm he met back then, the one he felt he had been treating her as, even after her accident. No, this time he truly took her all in. All of what she said, all of what he’d done. All her trauma, her rage, her fear—everything. He took a step toward her, closing the distance. Violet felt her body tense with apprehension as his shaking right hand caressed her cheek, just as he had done before. This time, however, he didn’t hold her like porcelain; he didn’t fear his touch could hurt her. For the first time, he felt he could really see her. See her as an equal. She felt a rush of comfort flood her as her hand reached for his, gently touching against him as she leaned into touch for just a moment. Her eyes shut, soaking it in before her hand fell reluctantly. [color=f26522]“I… see you, Violet.”[/color] His thumb brushed against her cheek, then slowly down her lip, briefly showing her teeth. Her lip curled slightly as her mouth opened instinctively, her fang brushing against his thumb. His hand pulled away, clenching into a fist. [color=f26522]“I choose me.”[/color] Every word was spoken slowly. [color=f26522]“I choose you.”[/color] Violet's breath caught as she looked at him, slightly stunned. His mind began racing—creating a plan, calculating next steps, resources, timing… who to trust. Stepping back from her, his eyes darted around the room, working out the problem and the consequences of moving forward. Finally, he decided on at least one thing he could do now. His gaze connected back to hers, renewed determination in his eyes and the way he held himself. [color=f26522]“I’ll break this curse. Then we can figure out who we are again.”[/color] He pulled a ring from his left hand—a simple band with four woven strands of bronze and one of gold, a small emerald set on top. Pulling a small metal pin, he began to engrave into it, stopping only to glance up at her. After the banquet, trust felt like a luxury she could no longer afford. Everyone wanted something from her. Everyone hid knives behind softened words. She had told herself she would not bend, not this time. Not for him. Not for anyone. But the moment he looked at her, everything unraveled. His touch shattered what resolve she had left. Her body betrayed her first, tension melting where it should have held firm, breath stuttering as if her lungs had forgotten their purpose. She hated that weakness. Hated how easily he reached places she had sworn to keep guarded. For a terrifying heartbeat, her mind went quiet. Violet took a half step back, as if distance might give her back control, but his touch still lingered on her cheek, fingers trembling despite herself. Crimson eyes searched his face, fear and longing tangled so tightly they were indistinguishable. [color=firebrick]“I don’t know if I can trust you,”[/color] she admitted, the words tearing free before she could stop them. Her voice was unsteady, stripped of the sharpness she used as armor. [color=firebrick]“I don’t know if I can trust [i]anyone.[/i]”[/color] Her jaw tightened, as though ashamed of the confession. She swallowed, forcing herself to meet his gaze again. [color=firebrick]“I told myself the next time I saw you, I had to stand my ground,”[/color] she continued, quieter now. [color=firebrick]“Ready to be cold. To be careful.”[/color] [color=firebrick]“But the moment you touched me…”[/color] She shook her head faintly, frustration and vulnerability bleeding through. [color=firebrick]“It felt like my mind stopped arguing.”[/color] A breath hitched in her chest. [color=firebrick]“And that scares me more than any threat you could bring to my door.”[/color] She pressed her hand to her chest as if to steady the storm there. Still, she didn’t turn away. Couldn’t. [color=firebrick]“So if you’re asking me to believe you…to trust you…”[/color] Violet said, voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze softened despite herself—damn her heart for it. It was clear her heart was her weakness, and she needed to protect it. He listened but didn’t stop his tinkering. A small engraving, an oath, a promise. A choosing of fates. He didn’t care if, after all of this, they ended up together—just being alive was enough. Friends would be better, but anything more? A relationship? No, now wasn’t the time to think about such things. He could see her struggle with every word and every breath, the war she was fighting in her head to keep herself safe. He could understand that: the feeling of trying to keep yourself sane while trying to keep yourself alive. He had failed at that a couple of times, and the cost was heavy. His inscription was finished. Small runes were etched into the inside of the gold band, simple and true: “ᛁᚴ : ᚴᚢᛋ : ᚦᛁᚴ”. He stepped up to her again, taking her in as if it were the last time he would ever see her. [color=f26522]“I want to tell you that you can trust me… but as long as I'm under this bond, you shouldn’t. Just as you saw, I will be forced to do so much worse.”[/color] He took her left hand again and held it in both of his hands, his eyes, never leaving hers. [color=f26522]“After tonight, you must treat me as an enemy. Just know that my heart does not follow my sword.”[/color] Violet's eyes softened as she listened. He slipped the ring over her middle finger with a soft smile. [color=f26522]“I know the symbolism of this, but this ring is enchanted.”[/color] The ring looked like one solid piece, but when he twisted the gold band to the left, it shifted under the emerald with a silent click. [color=f26522]“This setting hides your presence from being detected by most magical means, including your aura. It will look like you don’t have any magical presence at all.”[/color] Her eyes fell to the ring on her finger admiring its beauty, it was old and clearly meant something too him. Removing it meant that his aura would no longer be protected, her eyes flicked up at him at the realization before she looked back down. He shifted the band back to the right; it clicked softly once. [color=f26522]“If it's in the middle, it won't do anything. If it's to the right...”[/color] He trailed off as it clicked further to the right. A faint warmth emanated from the ring, accompanied by a subtle vibration that felt like a heartbeat. The sensation was strange as she felt the pulsing warmth along her finger.[color=f26522]“This ring is tied to me, the warmer it is the closer I am. It was meant for someone else, but they don’t need it anymore. This way, you will know if I'm close, and you will always be able to find me if you want to.”[/color] [i]If I want too…[/i] but what he if turned her away. What if history just repeated itself and she looked more like a joke to the courts. He held her hand tighter. [color=f26522]“If it's ever cold like ice, then my soul is no longer tied to this realm.”[/color] Violet’s breath hitched at that—at the quiet finality in his words. Her fingers curled instinctively, not away from him, but around the ring itself, as though sheer will might keep it warm forever. The thought of it going cold, of [i]him[/i] being gone, sent a sharp ache through her chest she hadn’t been prepared for. Slowly, she lifted her hand between them, studying the faint glow and feeling the steady pulse beneath her skin. Proof. Promise. Burden. All tangled together. Her thumb brushed over the metal, reverent, before she looked up at him again, eyes glassy but steady. [color=firebrick]“I don’t want a compass to a ghost,”[/color] she said softly, her voice trembling despite herself. [color=firebrick]“And I don’t want this to be some… relic I’m left holding while the world laughs again.”[/color] She took a step closer instead, closing the space between them, and pressed her ringed hand flat against his chest, right over his heart, as if to test whether the warmth matched the beat beneath. It did. [color=firebrick]“So don’t turn me away if something happens,”[/color] Violet murmured. [color=firebrick]““Don’t disappear. If you’re giving me this…”[/color] Her fingers tightened in his shirt, grounding herself. [color=firebrick]“Then I’m choosing to believe it means something.”[/color] After a moment’s hesitation, she laced her fingers back through his, deliberately, claiming the connection rather than shrinking from it. Her shoulders straightened, resolved, settling in beneath the fear. [color=firebrick]“And if it ever starts to grow cold,”[/color] she added quietly, [color=firebrick]“I won’t wait for fate or courts or history to decide what happens next. I’ll come find you. One way or another.Regardless of any curse…”[/color] Her fingers slipped from his as she took a small step back. [color=firebrick]“...but for now, I will become your enemy.”[/color] she said softly, her eyes glossing over as she attempted to hold back her emotions. Reaching into the pocket of her dress she pulled out a handkerchief, it was folded neatly with a Raven embroidered amongst red and black roses. A “V” stitched within the design. It was simple but something she made with her own hands. Her thumb traced over the stitching as she spoke softly [color=firebrick]“Perhaps when this is all over, when we both free ourselves from these curses…You can come back here and return this to me. So I know that you're finally free of what haunts you.”[/color] Her eyes flicked up with tears as the small wet spots formed on the handkerchief. Violet moved forward, tucking the fabric under his shirt against his chest. Her hand lingered for a moment, the ring reflecting against the moonlight as she looked back up at him with a reassuring smile. [color=firebrick]“I guess…this is it then…[/color] He watched her, listening intently to every word, every unspoken promise, every break in her voice or hitch in her breath. He almost winced at the sound of her voice, at the weight of her words. He knew why they had such an effect on him, why he was even here in the first place. He knew he wouldn’t put himself in this predicament if it weren't true. But what was it? It had a name he would not admit. Why? Simply because he was afraid. Afraid of the feeling itself? No. He was afraid of what it could bring. The uncertainty, the pain. Death and destruction? Yes, all of it. This was his last chance—perhaps the last one for a very long time. He looked away from her for a moment. Whether in shame or fear, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t be undecided about this. Removing this curse could get him killed—assuming the process didn't kill him first. And then what? He would have pushed her away so far that there would be nothing left between them. He placed his hand over his shirt, right where she had placed the cloth. His eyes slowly moved back to hers. The silence sat heavy between them again. His mouth opened and closed, struggling to form the words he so desperately wanted to say. Fear held his tongue, until he finally made his decision and silenced every doubting voice in his head. [color=f26522]“Fuck it,”[/color] he whispered. He stepped closer to her. He placed one hand on her waist and cupped the side of her face with the other. His heart was pounding, adrenaline flaring through his veins. He dipped his head, pressing his forehead against hers. [color=f26522]“Violet,”[/color] he whispered through the thunder in his chest. [color=f26522]“No lies, no manipulations… You scare me—not for who or what you are, but for what you can do to me. For what this burning in my soul means.”[/color] He remembered this feeling; one he thought he had buried long ago. He just had to name it. [color=f26522]“I'll come back to you again, and then we can fight this world together. Just promise me: until I'm free, show me your safe. Don’t hesitate, whether it be with words or steel.”[/color] He paused again. His heart hadn’t slowed; if anything, it beat stronger now. He could tell her. He had to. He must. [center][color=f26522]“Violet… I lo-”[/color][/center] Violet’s hand gently rested against his mouth, stopping the word before it could exist between them. A single tear slipped free, tracing a quiet path down her cheek as her breath trembled. [color=firebrick]“Shhh…”[/color] she whispered, barely sound at all. The cold night air closed in around them. Her thumb brushed his lower lip, slow, reverent,before retreating, as though even that small touch risked undoing her resolve. She leaned into him more, continuing to rest her forehead against his, eyes closed, breathing him in like a memory she knew she would one day ache for. The Silence between them grew in comfort. [color=firebrick]“Don’t,”[/color] she murmured softly, her voice breaking despite her efforts to keep it steady. [color=firebrick]“Not because it isn’t true… but because if you say it now, I won’t be strong enough to let you go.”[/color] The words struggled to leave her lips. Her fingers curled lightly into his shirt, not pulling him closer, just anchoring herself. His feelings pressed against her like heat, like gravity, and for a moment she allowed herself to exist inside it—to feel chosen, wanted, human. [color=firebrick]“I see your words…” [/color] Violet continued, her voice low, raw. [color=firebrick]“I’ve felt it every time you look at me...”[/color] She swallowed hard. [color=firebrick]“But it isn’t just words. It’s timing. And fate has never been kind to either of us.”[/color] [color=firebrick]“If you say it now,”[/color] she whispered, [color=firebrick]“it becomes a promise I will keep… and a hope I can’t afford.”[/color] [color=firebrick]“So let this moment be what it is,”[/color] Violet said, brushing her thumb gently against his cheek. [color=firebrick]”For once,”[/color] Violet said softly, [color=firebrick]“let’s not sharpen this into something that can cut us later.”[/color] [color=firebrick]“[i]I don’t want to be the weapon they use that costs you your life Roman.[/i]”[/color] He couldn’t speak. His heart was pounding, yet it felt like his stomach had dropped out from under him. So he listened. He just listened to every spoken word and held onto it. She was right; it was there—unspoken, but real. He could feel that thread between them. And so, unspoken it would remain. When he tried to speak again, he found that nothing came out. Instead, a wave of heat and nausea flooded his skull. He blinked, stumbling back from her. The potion was wearing off. He was out of time. The sudden change made Violet gasp as she braced herself against the balcony. Like something was being ripped from her, her breath catching. There was a hint of desperation in his voice, a shudder in his chest. [color=f26522]“What comes next is not my design. But I will carry it out.”[/color] This was not part of why he came here, but it might as well have been. [color=f26522]“My mission is to protect my home, my people. From those that would spread their corruption. That sickness comes from here—this kingdom, this city.”[/color] He couldn’t tell her everything. She was too close to them. [color=f26522]“So please, promise me you won't hesitate. Don’t defend me. Don’t give them a reason to suspect you. Don’t—”[/color] She took a step forward, her hand reaching out but he crumbled. His knees hit the floor, and he just barely caught himself with his hands. A hard cough racked his body, dripping crimson onto the floor. [i]Blood…[/i]Her hunger roared as the scent hit her, her fingers clenched drawing her hand to her chest. With a shaky breath, he stood, somehow feeling smaller before her like this. He stumbled back against the balcony railing. [color=f26522]“My time is up. I have to go, or I'll never leave.”[/color] Her feet slipped through the blood, slick and warm, and she nearly fell into him. She didn’t stop herself. She rose onto her toes, hands already on his face, breath stuttering against his mouth. There was no time to think,only the pull, sudden and fierce, as she kissed him. His blood was still on his lips. The taste hit her like a spark, and her fangs throbbed, aching, demanding. Need surged hot and frantic through her chest. She pressed closer, held the kiss a heartbeat longer than what was safe. She forced the hunger down with a trembling breath, clinging to him as if letting go would mean losing herself entirely. [center][i]...and that's exactly what it meant[/i][/center] [center][color=firebrick]”...Goodbye, Roman.”[/color] Her voice faded off into the distance as if caught by the wind.[/center] [i][center]Leaving only Roman there…[/center][/i] [i][center]Alone.[/center][/i] [/color] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/HaFKZIy.png[/img][/center]