Sawtooth Spire But the bruises on your ego make you go wild, wild, wild

wylla fell into him, and mahler held her for as long as it would take to calm her foot from the edge of the cliff. all sharp edges fell away under the glasslike roundness of her trembling breaths, the clawing rawness of her throat, the echoes of pain that shuddered loose in her voice.
until he too began to break. but for her he would remain with strength, providing a place of solitude and validation that she had always deserved from him, but never received.
wormwood now, that this be the moment of their reckoning.
mahler grasped a tremulous breath, held wylla as close as he might while the heart within his breast threatened to truly shatter.