Duskfire Glacier ever since i was a kid,

faust huffs, low and amused. the weight of war still drapes over him like a heavy pelt, but for a moment, she pulls him from it. nostalgia wraps its fingers around his throat, tightening.
and you never shut up, he murmurs, but there is no bite to it—only warmth.
he follows.
the stars stretch vast and infinite above them, the same as they had been all those years ago, when they were nothing but reckless, untethered things. no burdens, no titles. no blood staining their teeth.
life was simpler, she says, and faust glances to her, sees the invitation in her eyes.
he exhales, slow. lets the tension bleed from his shoulders, just for now.
then let's not think of war tonight.