he could still feel the warmth of kaien’s hands. even now —centuries later— his fingers twitched like they were trying to hold on to something that wasn’t there anymore. he’d told himself he’d gotten used to it, to the way kaien’s name burned against his ribs every time he breathed, but gods, how do you get used to missing someone in every lifetime?
every time he finds him, it’s different. a different face, a different voice. but the same eyes. always the same gods damned eyes. always that same terrible softness that tears him apart.
it doesn’t get easier. it never will. he used to believe that love was eternal; now he knows it’s just another word for being cursed. “just once,” he whispered, voice breaking, “just once, let me hold you a little longer.”
