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She was not so foolish as to mistake calculation for kindness.
“You’re like a rose in a graveyard,” he said, and his lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I wonder what you could have turned into without the war.”
Like a star, he was glittering and ice-cold from afar, but when the space was bridged, the heat of him was endless.
“Is this not enough? There are, undoubtedly, still unexplored depths to the potential misery between us. Shall we endeavour to achieve all of it?”
“Every time you asked, I promised I was yours. Always. There aren’t any exemptions or expiration dates on always.”
He’d loved her, even though he never expected them to be anything but doomed. He’d loved her all the same.
She remembered it being like this before, slow and intimate. The burning reverence of his touch when he’d made love to her. That’s what it had been. Making love. It was what they’d had.
It felt like a dream. One wrong move and it would all dissolve. Even staring at him, she could not shake the feeling that it wasn’t real. And even if it somehow was, then it would not last. The beautiful things in her life never did.
“I’m sure there will be good days and bad days for us. Too much has happened to ever really put it behind us, but if you choose me, and I choose you, I think we’re strong enough to make it.”
