the bastion
And you should know,
I left but never lost my place
I left but never lost my place
The evening has settled into something golden and alive. Torchline’s warmth clings sweetly to the skin, and laughter mingles with the scent of lavender and sea-brushed fruit. Stars are threatening to appear overhead, pale and blinking, but Remi only starts looking up when he can feel the press of time easing, when his arms are finally free of Aoife’s giddy weight and the crowd’s centre of gravity has shifted elsewhere.
That’s when he sees her. A glimpse across the sands—dark dress, sunset spun into her hair, sapphire eyes unmistakable even after all these years. Something twists in his chest, warm and aching. He smiles before he even means to, that boyish, lopsided grin he hasn’t worn quite like this in years, dimples creasing deeply as his gaze locks with hers. There's no pomp to the moment, no great fanfare. Just Remi, threading through the revelers with a kind of unthinking ease, drawn forward like the tide toward something he’s missed without even realising how much.
"Hey," he says, voice wrapped in sunlight and history as he reaches her. His arms don’t lift right away—he doesn’t pull her into a hug just yet—but it’s clear he wants to. Instead, his expression softens with something older, gentler in its way. "I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk to you more at Kiada’s wedding," he says, eyes shining as he takes her in properly now, "but gods I’m glad you’re here."
And this time, he doesn’t hesitate. He leans in and gathers her into a hug that speaks of seasons past and friendships that didn’t fade even with death. "I’ve missed you."
That’s when he sees her. A glimpse across the sands—dark dress, sunset spun into her hair, sapphire eyes unmistakable even after all these years. Something twists in his chest, warm and aching. He smiles before he even means to, that boyish, lopsided grin he hasn’t worn quite like this in years, dimples creasing deeply as his gaze locks with hers. There's no pomp to the moment, no great fanfare. Just Remi, threading through the revelers with a kind of unthinking ease, drawn forward like the tide toward something he’s missed without even realising how much.
"Hey," he says, voice wrapped in sunlight and history as he reaches her. His arms don’t lift right away—he doesn’t pull her into a hug just yet—but it’s clear he wants to. Instead, his expression softens with something older, gentler in its way. "I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk to you more at Kiada’s wedding," he says, eyes shining as he takes her in properly now, "but gods I’m glad you’re here."
And this time, he doesn’t hesitate. He leans in and gathers her into a hug that speaks of seasons past and friendships that didn’t fade even with death. "I’ve missed you."
and these nights I miss you most
my heart is yours to break
my heart is yours to break
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
