RONIN
the white knight
light is easy to love.
Ronin carefully tucks one of Seren's dark curls out of her face, as if it might tickle her awake if he isn't careful, before his fingers drift down to clasp her chill, unmoving hand. He'll awaken in a cold sweat for seasons after this and he knows it, imagining warmth where there is none, seeing her blink her eyes open and all fall into place. Dreams that become nightmares and back again; a familiar haunting made new again by this fresh pain.
Shivering out a sigh, he's about to speak again, to start to take his leave, when Safrin's voice hits the air. The affection in her words is almost jarring after so long, like a deep, still lake that would be so, so easy to sink into, even as the horror of what she's asking makes the sweetness of it turn sour. Swallowing hard, where once he might have recoiled or bristled with rage or gestured, perhaps, at the body between them, now the Knight can offer little more than a soft and apologetic smile.
"I am not the man I once was," he says with a sad finality. "I... All I want to is to say goodbye to our daughter. There's no replacing her, not for anything." Not even for divine obligation.
Shivering out a sigh, he's about to speak again, to start to take his leave, when Safrin's voice hits the air. The affection in her words is almost jarring after so long, like a deep, still lake that would be so, so easy to sink into, even as the horror of what she's asking makes the sweetness of it turn sour. Swallowing hard, where once he might have recoiled or bristled with rage or gestured, perhaps, at the body between them, now the Knight can offer little more than a soft and apologetic smile.
"I am not the man I once was," he says with a sad finality. "I... All I want to is to say goodbye to our daughter. There's no replacing her, not for anything." Not even for divine obligation.
show me your darkness.
