through blood and grime.
Lysandra stopped, tugging him into a halt.
He didn’t meet her eyes as she wiped his
tears away from one cheek. Then the other.
“I should have been at the western wall,”
he said, voice breaking.
She knew no words would comfort him. So
she wiped Aedion’s tears again, tears he
would only show in this shadowed hall, after
all others had found their beds.
And when he still didn’t meet her stare, she
cupped his face, lifting his head.
For a heartbeat, for eternity, they stared at
each other.
She couldn’t stand it, the bleakness, the
grief, in his face. Couldn’t endure it.
Lysandra rose onto her toes and brushed
her mouth over his.
A whisper of a kiss, a promise of life when
death hovered.
lily
(lily)
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