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Eternal:
(adj.) Lasting or existing forever; without end or beginning
Athanasia never complained about her situation. She never felt like she had the right to. A random event leads her to befriend a small boy. A boy that she believed she would never see again. His situation was heartbreaking, she knew that there are others that are more unfortunate just like him. However, this one encounter changes everything she expected of herself, gave her freedom when the world only wants to swallow her up.
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"Why are you doing this? Why are you befriending me? Though we met five hundred years ago, why do you still bring me into your life? So much can happen in that many years but instead of staying with your friends or finding other things to do, you're with me. Why?" I ask again.
Though I don't like being so forward, I can't help it. I'm scared to hurt him.
He shifts his gaze to me. His hazel eyes gleam into my blue ones as if he knows something that I don't.
"You're right. I had five hundred years, five hundred years to stay with my friends and five hundred years to find other hobbies." He pauses, taking in breath.
"But I had five hundred years without you, we only had two weeks together. And those two weeks were the best I've ever had. That's why I want to continue them-with you, Athy."
---
Disclaimer: All ACOTAR characters and plot belong to Sarah J. Maas. My characters and scenes are my own work.
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Two hundred years ago Rhysand lost his mother and sister in a grueling murder. But what if that sister had survived? What if the head in that box was just a tree-stump, transformed to look exactly like her? What if she had instead been sold for her knowledge on the mysterious Night Court? And what if that sister would now, just a few years after the war, find her way back, but with agendas of her own? ****************************************************************************** "Alright, oh wise one, my need for wisdom has run out now, so you can be on your way now" I waved my hand. "That's cold" Rhys put a hand over his heart, " I thought we were having a big-bro-little-sis talk here." I rolled my eyes, but he slid an arm around my shoulder: "We both already know what you'll do anyway." "Oh, we do, is that right?" He nodded: "You always been so predictable, if you would write murder-mysteries everyone would know from the beginning who killed the victim." "That's weirdly specific, how long have you been sitting on that one?" I snorted. "Since you insulted my taste in art" he sniffed theatrically. I laughed: "You are one petty High Lord." "I don't even know what to say to that insolence" he shook his head.
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