Chapter Text
He still thinks of Avdol.
When the sun rises, he thinks of his bright smile.
When the moon comes out and the world goes dark, he thinks of his calmness, his comfort.
When the snow begins to fall and he makes a fire, alone in his cold home. He thinks of his warmth.
The fire hurts the most. A true example of Avdol himself.
And Polnareff would let his house burn to the ground for just a fraction of the warmth of Avdol. For just a second more. One last chance.
Because he never got to say goodbye.
He still thinks of Avdol.