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high fey. With their pointed ears, tall frames, shining hair, smooth skin, and symmetrical features that could seemingly only emote disgust, resentment, annoyance, or arrogance.
“Thank you, Taran, I could see that,” came Cylvan’s icy retort. “I was only considering how fun it would be to put myself out of my misery.”
there was something else rankling the inside of his lungs. Like water from the lake still lingered, growing heavier as it spawned creeping moss and clay and formed its own thorny mire in the places he used to breathe.
Perhaps he could… skip two stones with one throw.
“Tell me who did this,” he repeated tightly, “so that I may tear them apart with my own hands.”
He touched Saffron’s black and blue cheek again with fingers gentle enough to hold smoke.
I wish to always be a safe place for you to close your eyes and rest.
He wanted to bottle that quiet moment. Let it ferment like the wine in his blood, so that he could sip it whenever he wanted.
To be memorized was to be devoured.
“I swear to watch over you, protect you… kiss you, make you laugh, surprise you with more nymphs when you least expect it…”
“Stay with me, Saffron,” he beseeched once more. “As my treasure. As my one, simple peace, so that I may always know there is at least one person who cares for me.”
Cylvan’s face contorted like he was finally able to take a breath after drowning, making Saffron’s heart throb.
Every additional word made Cylvan shudder, as if Saffron cast a weakening spell across him. When he finally cracked open his eyes, they were wet, though no tears dripped over.
