#troicstorm

She’s made a home in the shadows he calls sanctuary.

Once, she dreams of a lifetime where he protects her, thissoft boy in the guise of a man who’s killed too many that the shade of bloodnever quite washes out from his uniform. She didn’t know, then, that he lovedher more than he loved the country she ruled. But she liked him in white, andhe wore it anyway, and red blossomed on his chest too quickly because he vowedto give his life to her and that’s exactly what he did. She’s hated him since.

In another, she’s nameless to him, and people like him toomuch to leave him alone. She doesn’t jump in front of a barrel of a loaded gunfor him, but she wishes she did.

Sometimes, she’s the one who pulls the trigger. In these, helets her, and she doesn’t look back. Not immediately. Not for a long while.

- We weren’talways like this. Do you remember?

- …No. Not anymore.

Always, she crashes into his life first, literally or not,in varying degrees of grace and poise. Sometimes he’s the villain, but she’s alwaysthe hero.

He’s lost count of how many he remembers; it’s when he doesthat she doesn’t love him back. He doesn’t know if the same rule applies toher, and sometimes he thinks that she might recognise him, but he’s always tooafraid to ask. (If he had, she would have said no.) He’s watched her live manylives, but in some, he doesn’t see her at all. The lives he spends with her inthem are the ones that burn the fiercest, but fire never lasts, and it has little toconsume when he thinks he’s the only one who has anything to feed it.  

- I’llalways find you.

- Please. That’s my job.

- We can’tkeep chasing each other.

And maybe – maybe – in this lifetime they both remember. Orneither of them do.

This time it’s the latter, the world seems to decide, andhere Steven doesn’t believe in fate.

He believes in hiding. He gives smiles that cast greatshadows and proves that kindness doesn’t always equate to good. Smoke fills hislungs and he doesn’t know if he wants to be the hero when being a villain seemsso much better. He kills himself slowly because dying beautiful is better thandying alone. He’s afraid when he’s not supposed to be, and his entire form iscrumbling under the weight of a kingdom that’s not yet his.

She finds him when he doesn’t want her to. It’s not that he’sdeveloped an aversion to the light; he thinks there’s too much of it, and thereare parts of him he doesn’t want to reveal to anyone. But she finds those, too,and he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and still – she doesn’t pull themout of him, these little nooks and crannies in the walls he’s built around theempty town she believes can be saved. His heart is not meant to be a home, butshe makes one out of it anyway.

- Do youthink this is it?

- Who knows?

Troi wants him alive. It takes a while to realise why, andit doesn’t happen like it does in the movies. There are no gut-wrenchingrealisations around him because her gut is too busy being occupied bypterodactyls and her face begins to hurt from all the smiling. No, it’s whenshe’s alone that she realises she’s thinking of him still, imagines his hand inhers and marvels at the softness of his everything. He thinks he’s weak butthere’s strength in him he’s too stubborn to acknowledge.

But this time he sings and this time she’s the one who can’t forget. This time hishand reaches towards her and she takes it.

This time he wakes up and she’s still there, no longer a dream.

- It’s niceto meet you again, princess.