worry lines frame his face in a way that anya believes to be beautiful;  a golden boy frozen in his youth.   how heavy their eyes?  with tired minds, tired eyes, and tired souls they stood frozen in the moment,   forever replaying the moment everything changed:   and for that, she feels . . . jealous?   how childish,  to be jealous of the love between two brothers,   that colt is ready to leave her in a second’s notice to bring falco home,  even if it means dying.   what will he find there?   answers?   is colt searching for answers?  she cannot bring herself to look into his eyes,  too afraid of begging him to stay.  too scared that if she looks weak,  he’ll snap.   ❝   promise me you’ll be careful?  ❞    

it comes off desperate,  nearly begging.  cerulean eyes hold his,  cheek leaning into his hand.  when his lips brush hers,  anya hesitantly welcomes him,  fingertips brushing every inch of him,  taking a picture as though this might be the last time they ever see each other.   if only to remember the moment,  she breaks away.   it’s heartbreaking,  to see how alone they’ve become : to look into the betrayal that zeke has laid upon their feet.  her eyes travel to the warrior insignia,  thinking about how they were supposed to have it all ; that all the plans they had were now laid to waste . . . hatred pushed aside,  she selfishly wants colt to be safe,  nothing more nothing less.  but the worry in his eyes bit back the words she begs to say,  instead just nodding.