Work Text:
He is resolved.
Sometimes, when he first wakes up, the first thing he thinks is, “There is still time to beg her for forgiveness.”
Those moments when he is unguarded, she slips through all the cracks in his pieced together mental defenses (the ones she shattered when she kissed him and again when she reached for him and again when she looked at him with such absolute trust).
But he is resolved.
Sometimes, on the edge of sleep he thinks, “I could tell her everything.”
The world the Fade has crafted for him on those nights begins with her unconditional acceptance. He tears those dreams apart, sends spirit and demon alike scrambling away from his grief.
He is sick with want and hurt.
But he is resolved.
Sometimes, she surprises him with her tenderness. Whether she still loves him, he can’t guess, but she is still so very kind to him. Whatever is in her heart, she still offers him both hands easily.
He struggles. Part of him wants to push her away, part of him wants to reach for her and never let go again. He does neither. She has suffered enough, she deserves better than his cruelty.
He is cruel to himself instead. Keeping a careful distance from those gentle hands.
He is resolved.
Still, still with the orb broken in his hands and all his plans in ruins, he has to see her one last time. Have one last look at her victorious, stronger and brighter than he had ever been.
He is resolved.
Resolved and apart from her. But some days he stills wakes up with the words, “Forgive me. I love you,” in his thoughts and on his lips.
He thinks if he lives another thousand years, another ten thousand, another hundred thousand, he will never be free of the thought of her and the life he could have lived with her.
He is resolved.
But she yet lives and he could yet beg for her forgiveness.