Witch's Marsh Death doesn't let you say goodbye

When he opened his eyes and slowly set his gaze upon her, it was like the whole world slowed in her course, until the sun stood still, and the flurry of a thousand stars fell from the sky and lighted within to make her body feel as though her bones were on fire. She had not realized his eyes, his face, no matter how full of sorrow, had become like home to her. He was her home, and she drew in a breath, and forgot to let go.

His feeble voice matched his approach; she could still feel the uncertainty written in his steps, and etched into the fabric of every word he spoke. Quiet and broken, she hurt, she hurt to see him like this. So unlike the man she had come to love - and yet, she loved him still. She loved him, and she had not lost him. He was here. He was real, and she had found him.

She had found him. A soft smile played across her face, and broke into the quietest of laughs. Filled with the words she had failed to understand when she had been with him, dancing together, beneath the Borealis, when the glacier had been theirs. She had found him, and he had found her.

And, without fear, she leaned forward to complete the distance, until she met his cheek with a gentle touch, a wordless answer to his searching words.

She was here. She was here. And she would never lose him again.