No One Mourns the Wicked

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She returned the hug and held Megara tight.

"Does that mean you're coming with me?" she hopefully asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. She didn't dare to break the hug before Megara did - she wanted the moment to last forever.
mage

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Megara went stiff, but hugged her back, albeit tensely.

"Yes," she said after a long pause, her voice small. A tear slipped out, holding too many emotions to count, and soaked into the material of Runi's clothes. "Yes, I am."
formerly TheMulticoloredCyr

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The End
mage

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queer and here.



I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
— Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights