hope when you take that jump / you don't fear the fall

Megara watched him carefully, her fingers still ghosting over the fresh ink. His words carried the weight of certainty, the kind she had no power to argue against—but she could still choose to ignore it, for now. Borrowed time or not, she said, her voice steady, I’ll take every second of it. She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over the metal casing he’d thumped moments before. And you don’t get to decide that kindness has anything to do with it. I love you because you’re you, Nairn. No matter how much time we have.

She let that truth settle between them, knowing he’d take it as he always did—quietly, with that particular brand of stubbornness he wore so well.

His blush brought the faintest smirk to her lips, and as he leaned in for a kiss, she met him halfway, letting it linger just a little longer than necessary. When she pulled back, her fingers trailed down his arm before she finally stretched, rolling her shoulders. Mmm, well, if you like the idea, I suppose I have no choice now, she teased lightly, though there was no reluctance in her tone.

Turning back toward the mirror, she took one last look at the shimmering script. It was theirs alone—words meant for her, etched into her skin by his hand. A silent promise, in a world where spoken ones often broke too easily.

With a slow, contented sigh, she finally pushed herself up from the table. Come on you, she murmured, reaching for her abandoned wine glass. You’ve had me sitting still for ages, and I’m fairly certain I’ve earned another drink. She glanced at him over her shoulder, warmth in her eyes. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll spill some and you can lick it off me.

Fin?
@“Nairn Neirdre”