dusk;

Maybe it was never about that, she thought. Maybe, the entire time, he was fighting for a resolve he had never learned to master, a strength he had never felt singe his hollowed self—the soul he had released long ago with the quest of the summer winds, the frighteningly wrecked pieces of himself that he tried to tape together with broken promises and broken words when she left him so long ago, without an answer, without a goodbye, without the piece of his heart she had sealed within him for the rest of eternity.





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