Northstar Vale & prayer-pale stars that pass the drowsing-incensed hymns (mtr.)

melkor does not expect her confession — for whoever truly does? — and yet he listens, patiently all the same. a dream. ❝i'm very real, i assure you.❞ very real and very much capable of making plenty of fool's mistakes. ❝i can't promise that it's always going to be starry-eyed looks and lilac colored love. i can't promise that kisses will always taste like gooseberries. i'm no dream; no knight. but i can and i do promise to never give up on us.❞ nothing in life is easy; a life lesson well learnt by the tundrian from his earliest memories.

life is hard and thus he expects love to be as well; but he found a way to survive and thinks that finding a path to endure with another would come just as natural.

❝only for a moment?❞ melkor cannot help but tease her, rasping smoky tones thick with faux disappointment. ❝i am sure she will chalk it up to the season.❞ comes his uttered half-lie.... because he can't say for sure what anyone will think of such public displays of affection. regardless; it is done.

❝don't i already?❞ melkor asks with murmured curiosity and perhaps a touch of confusion.