The evening air was cool still Pillyse can't sleep, carrying the scent of roses from the mansion gardens Pillyse wandered along the cobblestone paths. Lanterns flickered like captured stars, casting pools of golden light over the neatly trimmed hedges and glimmering fountains. The world shimmered around her, but her heart was fully focused on Elarion, whose presence seemed to command both space and silence wherever he stood.
She turned a corner, and there he was, waiting beneath the sweeping boughs of a weeping willow. Moonlight glinted off the dark strands of his hair, painting him in shades of silver and shadow. He looked unreal, impossibly composed and beautiful, and her chest constricted at the sight of him.
"You didn't wait for me," he said, voice low, teasing, but threaded with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.
"I needed… a moment," she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "To breathe. To take it all in. This… this world… it's overwhelming."
Elarion's gaze softened, but the strength behind it never wavered. He stepped closer, and the heat radiating from him made her breath catch. "And what have you discovered, Pillyse?"
"That your world is beautiful," she whispered, "and that I want to be part of it… even if I don't fully understand it yet."
He took her hand, brushing his fingers against hers with a tenderness that made her shiver. "You are already part of it," he murmured. "Part of me. Every choice I've made, every risk I've taken… every heartbeat led me here, to you."
Her pulse thundered in her chest. This was not the love she had known before....it was all consuming, a devotion carved into the very depths of his soul. She could feel it in the way his gaze lingered, in the quiet intensity of his presence.
"You… you would do anything for me, wouldn't you?" Her voice trembled, almost afraid of the answer.
Elarion's lips curved in a faint, bittersweet smile. "Anything. Every sacrifice, every danger, every heartbeat it is yours if you desire it. But there are burdens I cannot yet reveal, truths too heavy for you to carry."
She stepped closer, drawn by the invisible pull between them. "Then let me be here," she whispered. "Let me stay, even if I cannot know everything."
For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Then, with deliberate care, he closed the distance. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing lightly over the delicate curve, and he leaned closer, so close that she could feel the heat of his breath, the force of his will.
"You don't have to understand," he murmured. "You only have to feel. And I… I feel you, Pillyse. I have for so long."
Her lips parted instinctively. And when he leaned down, their mouths met in a kiss both tender and urgent, fierce and reverent all at once. It spoke of nights spent apart, of desires unspoken, of hearts that had never stopped seeking each other. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling the strength of his hands at her back, holding her as if letting go was impossible.
The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, swaying with unspoken rhythm, drawing her closer into him, until the world outside the willow fell away entirely. She felt every feather-light touch, every whispered sigh, and every beat of his heart, and her own soul seemed to respond in kind.
When they finally parted, breathless, she rested her forehead against his chest, feeling the steady drum of his heartbeat beneath her palm. "Elarion… I…"
"You don't have to speak," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "I know. I feel it. And I feel you."
They lingered in silence beneath the willow, hand in hand, their bodies close but not yet fully surrendered, hearts bound by invisible threads. Every brush of fingers, every heartbeat shared, every soft sigh deepened their connection, entwining them in ways beyond the grasp of words.
Elarion tilted her chin up with a gentle hand, their lips meeting again this time slower, lingering, exploring. Every touch, every brush of his lips against hers, carried the weight of devotion, longing, and unspoken promises. His hands slid along her waist, drawing her impossibly close, until there was no space left between them.
"I swear," he murmured, voice low and husky, "that no shadow, no force, no world can ever take you from me. Not while I breathe, Pillyse. Not ever."
Tears pricked at her eyes, not from fear, but from the overwhelming intensity of his love. "I'll trust you," she whispered.
Elarion's hands tightened slightly, as if afraid to let go. He breathed against her lips. "Completely. Irrevocably."
Time slowed around them. The moonlight glinted through the willow leaves, scattering silver across their entwined figures. Pillyse could feel the strength and warmth of his body, the heartbeat of the man she loved against her own, and it sent waves of emotion longing, relief, desire, and a profound sense of belonging through her.
They moved together beneath the willow for what felt like hours, hands brushing, lips meeting in tender, lingering kisses, whispers of devotion shared between them. Every touch was a promise; every heartbeat, a vow. The night wrapped around them like a cloak, isolating them from the mansion, the household, and the burdens of their world.
Finally, Elarion pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers. "Pillyse… promise me," he murmured, voice trembling ever so slightly. "Promise me that no matter what shadows or trials come, you will remain here, with me. That your heart will never doubt its place."
Her chest swelled. "I promise," she whispered, tears spilling freely now. "You found me, Elarion. In this world… and in all worlds. I may know a little but I'll trust you....I will stay."
He pressed a final, reverent kiss to her lips, and she melted into him, feeling the depth of his devotion wrap around her like a warm, unbreakable shield. And in that moonlit garden, beneath the silent gaze of the weeping willow, Pillyse understood something extraordinary, that love could be both a sanctuary and a fire, consuming and protecting, terrifying and beautiful and that hers and Elarion's had already become unstoppable.
They remained like that until the moon had climbed high into the sky, breathing each other in, whispering promises that needed no words, letting the world fade into a distant hum. And when at last they pulled away, still trembling, still breathless, Pillyse knew with absolute certainty that nothing, no secret, no burden, no force in the world could ever sever the bond that had been forged beneath that willow.
It was more than love. It was fate. It was devotion. And it was theirs. Her salvation.