[open] that day even the sun was afraid of you; any

[firion]

that day even the sun was afraid of you and the weight you carried

Her words are kind—kinder than he had come to expect from her—and for a second, he has enough of his wits about him to regret what’s coming. The way that his own anger will rise from his belly, the darkness that he does his best to squash flooding over him. It flashes across his eyes, this regret, but it gets swept away almost as quickly as it had arrived, leaving nothing but the shadows that darken his golden gaze.

“I doubt we’d ever be running in the same direction.” The friendliness that had just been there but a moment before, the second of peace extended, bleeds out from him and he’s left with the cold, hollow feeling he had when he had woken up this morning. That knowledge that he would never be able to have a normal life again. That any chance of having peace had long since been ripped from his hands.

He looks away from her for a moment, swallowing hard.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get to run with someone.” A confession that sounds as bitter as it tastes. He finally looks back, his face hardened just slightly, as though terrified of the vulnerability of even that much truth. “I have to go,” he finally says, all of his charisma and charm having long since drained from him.

In this moment, his fate feels inevitable, unchangeable.

In this moment, he feels as dead as he had the night before.

“I just…” his voice fades off and without another word, he turns and leaves.

so you saluted every ghost you've ever prayed to and then buried it where bones are buried