Chapter Text
Gold. That's all he saw. That and the face of an angel. Emma Carstairs.
Hair fell down to her shoulders in long beachy waves, precious and shiny in the sunlight. So many shades of gold and platinum illuminated her face as she shrieked with joy at the crystal blue sea that splashed all around her. Warm brown irises with flecks of blue and green gazed towards the horizon as she took in the view of the sunset in front of them. She always told him how much she loved sunsets and how she envied their stunning beauty. Julian wished he could show just how magnificent she was but he couldn't. He couldn't tell her how the thought of her made him beam with joy, how he could listen to her talking and giggling for hours on end without getting bored and that all he ever did or ever wanted to paint was her. She was a work of art. A warrior who was still so delicate. Trying to cover up her grief and loss by beating herself up training until she resulted bloody and bruised with rough, callused hands. But loving her meant his heart broke a little more each time as he felt a dull throb from his parabatai rune in a call to prevent self destruction.
Parabatai. The word made him wince. He couldn't love her; The Law is hard, but it is the Law. He shouldn't love her; They were parabatai, sworn to protect each other until their dying breaths. But he did love her.
Bronze. That's all she saw. That and the face of a god. Julian Blackthorn.
Hair curled at the nape of his neck and lay in thick waves over his forehead and eyelids where speckles of yellow and blue paint marked. His hair wasn't just bronze. It was copper, russet, chestnut, hazel, chocolate and they shone together under the bright sun as he worked his brush effortlessly over the canvas. Aquamarine Blackthorn eyes glinted like diamonds whilst marvelling his work, unaware they were a marvel of their own. He always told her how he hated his scars and how he tried to cover them but always failed. Emma wished she could prove how beautiful his scars were but she couldn't. She couldn't tell him how she loved to trace them with her fingertips as they sought comfort in each other on stormy nights, how she loved the sound of his laugh as it echoed in her mind and heart and how he would subconsciously protect her even tough she was the stronger fighter. He was special. An artist who had such a strong will. Trying to hide a secret she couldn't see by disappearing for hours on end in his studio, trying to paint away his thoughts. But loving him meant her heart shattered a bit more each time as she felt a sharp pain from her parabatai rune in a call during distress.
Parabatai. She hates that word. She couldn't love him; The Law is hard but it is the Law. She shouldn't love him; They were parabatai, forbidden to love each other. But she did love him.
"What should I do?"
They were both afraid to find the answer.