herb

It took her a few more days to rummage through his belongings—at least, the ones he was able to bring with him when they tried to take over the elder brain.

She stumbled upon a letter, sealed and addressed to her, of what might be his last words dedicated to Helene.

As she tore through the page, her gaze fell back inside the pack where a few rustled paper nestled at the bottom.

Curious, she took one. And as if Torment manifested in this realm, it haunted her once again like a cursed soul.

Words written over another, all addressed to her. All reminiscing of the past and what could have been.

Words that never reached her. Words that he might have longed to tell her, now only exist on parchment.

Enver Gortash was dead. And yet, he would continue to haunt her days for the rest of her life. Filling her of what could have been.

Drowning her with thoughts on how she could have saved him.

How their doomed love could have withstand the hardships that had befallen them.

---------------------

We're choosing angst today.

“I created this world, to feel some control