RONIN
the white knight
light is easy to love.
Feeling his throat close and his eyes sting afresh, Ronin swallows hard and swipes a hand across his face, fingers raking back through dark, messy hair. "I could ask...?" he whispers, the apology already hidden in the words. If Safrin couldn't convince Vi to restore life to their daughter - and he wouldn't, Ronin knows that already, knows that all life is sent to Mort as a gift, a love letter - than he doesn't stand a chance.
Shuddering out a breath, the Knight surprises himself by the willingness with which he shifts forward, his fingers closing around Safrin's, calloused and cold with a brittleness to the touch rather than the usual warmth and strength. "I know," he says, shutting his eyes against the sight of their daughter's still and perfect face, unable to look at her knowing he'll never again see the way her eyes light up when she smiles, the wonder on her face when she sees something new.
"How did this happen?" Ronin grates out suddenly. "What did this?"
Shuddering out a breath, the Knight surprises himself by the willingness with which he shifts forward, his fingers closing around Safrin's, calloused and cold with a brittleness to the touch rather than the usual warmth and strength. "I know," he says, shutting his eyes against the sight of their daughter's still and perfect face, unable to look at her knowing he'll never again see the way her eyes light up when she smiles, the wonder on her face when she sees something new.
"How did this happen?" Ronin grates out suddenly. "What did this?"
show me your darkness.
