>>6328295The eldest hisses through her teeth, and then leaves with the others.
The girl raises a hand—the golden sheen that covers the door fades and it plunges down, shutting the entrance.
She leans against the stone, breathing softly. Her eyes slowly raise towards her brother, standing amidst the infinite room, floating one inch from the floor, still surrounded by the circles of the orrery.
“Volevo vederti,” she murmurs.
Willow blinks.
Wait, that sounds a lot like Maduan.
In fact, it is—
Oh God.
<span class="mu-i">Oh God.</span>
“What the fuck,” she mewls, covering her face with her hands, as the brunette bites her lip, embarrassed, a ghost of blush blooming on her cheeks as she keeps looking at her brother.
Is this—
Argia wanted to give her soul to <span class="mu-i">this?</span>
“Ora mi vedi,” the brother replies, taking a tentative step towards her. “Non è abbastanza?”
“Non è mai abbastanza…” Ansàrra (oh God) counters, detaching from the stone and walking towards him. Standing on her tiptoes, she wraps her arms around his neck, pulls him in for a long, lingering kiss. He sighs and rubs her neck, dragging her closer.
Willow’s heart skips a beat.
It’s becoming a habit.
What. The fuck.
So—they are—
Stranders.
Like she is.
They shaped the world like she could only dream to do.
When Ansàrra withdraws, it’s just to rub his cheek, a sad look in her eyes.
“Ti vedo sempre con quelle sette. Non doveva essere il nostro mondo, questo? Il nostro posto segreto? Solo per noi?”
[cont.]
