Hushed Willows grey hoarfrost vanished, and the rose with might [festival]

In the stillness of her silence, these moments seem forever, and for every heartbeat she doesn't respond, he wonders if he is mistaken after all. If this is another dead end, and he realizes his chest is heavy with the hollow ache of an anguished cry, and his resolution stirs slowly within.

If this is love, he does not want it.

But then she moves, sharp and familiar, and his eyes meet hers. Electric blue - and he has only a moment to register the reality of her presence before he finds himself entangled by her, embraced by her warmth and the softness of her voice, a breathless word she whispers across the raucous din of night, and his cry chokes out. She smells of snow and ice, and the wild wind which wanders - yet she is here, and the world is right.

"Shhh. Shh, it's okay. You're safe. I found you," his voice is low; he means his words only for her, and his chest aches as she buries her face into his shoulder and shudders against him with a silent sob. You won't always lose them, Merrit.

But he would.
Always.
He closes his eyes, and embraces her tighter.