it feelsâŚmundane, to see her here. for him to be here, even. lying in the basilias, heaven seems both surreal and faraway, like something heâs seen in a dream rather than their home. but this is real, he has to remind himself of that ; reality is no longer a dark basement and binding chains, but a clean bed with crisp sheets and razielâs smile, like sunlight filtering through the clouds. â i would like that, yes. â his own voice is foreign, odd and raspy, like every word is ripped from his throat rather than spoken. still ithuriel tries to grin at her, saddled with an ache that goes bone-deep but at least alive. â will you help me ? iâd hate to spill everything. â part of him still overthinks when she touches him, wondering whether this is all but an intricate dream captivity has inflicted upon him. some kind of taunt, perhaps, to see his loveâs face then snapping out of it and realizing she was never there at all. but raziel does not disappear, and instead her touch is light as she replaces the soft towel on his forehead ( he keeps forgetting itâs there, and it keeps slipping to the side when he tries to move ). he sees her gaze start to get foggy, would reach for her if he could. as it is, the best he can do is look at her, try to convey all he wants to do in his gaze. â you should not be, dearest, soul of my soul, â ithuriel says softly. â you could not possibly know, and regret now does not change a thing. justâ do not leave. please. iâd like us not to part. â again.
        her finger traces his jaw as she falls quiet, biting into her lip to keep the tremble in her jaw from being so evident. an inward sigh sticks to her lungs as her heart seems to twist painfully in her chest. she finds her fingers clawing into the fabric of her leggings, a soft thump as the heel of her boot taps the chair she sits in. she isnât sure what to say, and when she does part her lips, a simple pained croak leaves her instead. relaxing her hands in defeat, she pushes her blonde curls off her forehead as she nods. â ââ of course. ââ he was the light of her life, the fire that burned in her chest, the soft touch as her lips press to his cheek, before she stands from her seat, and takes another on the edge of the bed, grabbing the thermos. he is still so beautiful to her and she will never forgive herself for the injustice he has suffered. he is still so loving and forgiving to her that it makes her heart ache. it sends a foreign kind of numbness throughout her body, before she traces her fingers down the side of his cheek, a soft exhale as she kisses his forehead, the skin cool to the touch. ( he has always been her rational, even when her mind didnât process properly when she wished to be so childishly reckless. what would she do without him ? she didnât even want to fathom it. she has existed long enough without him by her side for an eon. ) â ââ i can assure you, iâm not going anywhere again.â never again. she whispers, pulling her lips away from his head as she pulls the metal spoon from her pocket, twisting the lid of the thermos off.Â
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