B.
@MinasMorgul
He would sail to war and I would follow, even into death. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes.”
Reklam
I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.
Time folded in on itself, closed over me, buried me.
I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me.
I listened and did not speak. Achilles’ eyes were bright in the firelight, his face drawn sharply by the flickering shadows. I would know it in dark or disguise, I told myself. I would know it even in madness.
Reklam