silence. it's funny, how such a thing echoes. nina can't bring him back; she tried, and it wasn't him, the lack of light in the eyes, the lack of warmth in his skin too much for her to bear. he wouldn't have wanted to live on that way, and nothing could ever hope to encompass all of the goodness he held inside of him, not even a walking corpse wearing his face.
they need to move, inej is standing guard at her side but nina cannot make herself release him, cannot force her arms to let him go. her fingers delicately stroke his cheek, her thumb brushing lips that she would never feel again, that she would never again give cause to smile.
her arms encircle him, holding him close to her chest and her heart beating for both of them. a hand on her shoulder, "we have to go," a cautious tone, it breaks the silence that surrounds them. nina buries her face in matthias' hair and inhales him one last time. 'jer molle pe oonet. enel mörd je nej afva trohem verretn', in this life he had kept his promise; in the next, perhaps it would be her turn to make such an oath.
My muse is dead. Tell me how yours is dealing with it.
