It was like waking up after his eyes had been sewed up and she forced them open. Krasa. Like his lungs were set on fire and her voice was the only thing able to kill the flames. Krasa. Like he was absence until she recognized him, saw him, welcomed him back into this world. Krasa. And all he could see, all he could breath, was her: his world, his reason, his love, his soul, his everything. Iâve finally found you. Because she had been looking. It wasnât just him. He hadnât been alone in this. And goddesses, how it hurt. To imagine her alone in this world, leaving clues behind so he could find her. Waiting for him, longing for what he too longed for. Krasa couldnât stand it. The fact that it took one hundred and thirty six years to be here, with her. âMiruâ, he said again, all the steps needed to be right in front of her taken, fingers raised to touch her cheekbones with their icy tips.
He could feel her warmth. The shape of her very much real as he countered her nose, her chin, her jawline. She was really there. âMiru,â he said at last for her to hear. The one word that owned him, the one person. It had been her name the very first thing to come out of his mouth when they swam ashore, and it was her name the first word he learned when they were but babies. It was her when he finally breathed again. âIâm sorry I didnât find you sooner,â Krasa whispered, eyes filled with the tears he didnât cry in all those years. He had screamed until his voice was lost and gone silent for months without end, but he had never cried. Not even once. Now, as he allowed his arms to bring her close, embracing her as strongly as he could without hurting his twin, Krasa finally cried. In silence. For her, for him, for time, for absence, for reunion, for home. For all the things he once was and all the things he couldâve been.Â
Unaware of the attention it might bring to them. Krasa cried. As his legs started to fail and he used Miruâs presence to steady himself. As he breathed her in and tried to memorize her new scent, afraid of all those things he didnât recognize in her. As he felt ashamed and weak and thrilled and scared and complete. âIââ he began, voice broken in so many ways, Blair had to stop. Take a deep breath. Compose himself. He would not lose control. Enough. âI looked for you⌠all these years, I looked. But I couldnât find you, Mi. I bought every painting, bribed every eye in the underworld. I even went as south as the Mediterranean Sea looking for you, but I couldnât find you. Iâm sorry you had to wait. Iâm sorry I wasnât good enough. Iâm so sorry I lost you,â I am. Out of breath. Unable to let you go, to look in your eyes. Afraid that youâll leave. Terrified you wonât like who Iâve become. I am not your Krasa anymore. All the things he shouldâve said, but couldnât. All the thoughts he hoped she would read, uncertain if she could.
He had been searching for her. Just as Astarte had said he was. There was so much she wanted to say. So much that could be said to him. But where did she start? Where did they go from there? Miru was at a loss as he touched her face. A laugh bubbled up from her as she closed her eyes. Bringing up her face to the ceiling as she did. He was there in front of her. He was there. It was Krasa. He who completed her and made her whole. Her heart felt as thought it might burst from her chest with joy. Her soul twirled and danced and rejoiced with the rest of her as he clung to her. His words echoed in her mind and she squeezed him to her. Her arms wrapping around his midsection as she felt his weight shift. âKrasa, you have nothing to apologize for,â she said into the open. There were eyes on them now. Though she didnât care. She had found him. She had found her Krasa once again and nothing could spoil this moment for her. For them.
âListen to me,â she cooed softly, âNone of what happened was your fault. I should have never wandered away from you.â It was her fault they were parted. It was her fault that she was captured. It was her fault. All of it and she was so angry with herself now that she had him back in her arms. Icy tears fell from her periwinkle eyes and her fingers began to trace letters on his shoulder blades to keep herself remotely calm. Or at the very least away from the seething anger that formed at herself for all this time apart that she had caused. âIt was my fault for not following you. It was my fault for following that damned voice,â openly, she began to sob, âIt was all my fault, Krasa and Iâm so so sorry that I did this to us. I promise I will never leave your sight again. I will always be right here.â
Her breathing began to labor as she sobbed harder. Her nails digging into his pale skin and making indents where they landed. Miru was heartbroken still. Heartbroken for the way that things had gone, for the time they had spent apart, for causing him so much grief. She couldnât bear the thought for how much pain and heartache he had went through if she had screamed and sobbed for him in that cage. She had screamed. For so long and so loud that her throat had bled and her vocal chords felt as though they might give out with the force that she had exuded. âIâm so sorry, brother, I am so, so sorry,â she sobbed, âYou found my clues, my hints.â Miru stopped suddenly. Pulling away from him to place her hands on either side of his face and the tip of her nose to his. Her eyes closed in pure bliss. âYou found them! Oh Krasa! I hoped you had somehow found them!â