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Malleus has never expected to fall in love. Not this quickly, not this deeply, and certainly not this tragically. Lily had crept into his life with an unforgiving sort of kindness, and Maellus had found himself swept away by everything that had made her the antithesis of him: her curiosity, her warmth—her hopes and her dreams. It had been exhilarating, but it had also been absolutely terrifying, and after one too many nights spent staring up at the sky with thoughts of Lily’s smile, her touch, her laughter ringing distantly through his mind... he’d simply shut things down, before his feelings could get worse than that. He hadn’t wanted to cut her off—Lily had always been more than just a friend—but he had. And he’s certain that it was for the best.
And yet, even now—he finds himself wondering what could have been, had he not. Each time he sees Lily in the halls (her eyes darkening for just a moment before she ducks her head so as not to look his way), he feels his heart grow slowly colder, and he wonders:
Would there have been a chance for them—had he taken less initiative to prevent things from being so? Would they have been as perfect as Lily—not in so many words—had always promised they would be?
Malleus doesn’t know (yet he finds himself afraid of the answer for more reasons than he can count).