He wrenches himself through the walls, always behind them, blind and trapped. He can hear the rain outside. He fights down asphyxia, reminded he is still in fever, and coaxes the crawlspace past him. Now he is hunched in a thin covert, a place he knows... knew.
Then is Nilet, huddled with him.
Oh, Nilet. After all, I forgot.
"Will you?" she has asked, her eyelashes high, and thick with wet.
"I do will." he makes his voice low, emphatic.
She is several summers more graced by the Lady than him, but a diminutive creature, that provokes his protective, masculine urge. She has - in spite of that, he thinks - a confidential ease that could unman him, at a time when he is on the cusp of proving out to be a man.
He nears her lips. "I will to be eternal to you as the sun."
She leaves him close but accepts no kiss. "It's boyish to think in such absolutes. Even gods die."
He does not know whether to evince anger, or despair. "You think me a fool young in love."
She is casual and amused. "You are. A young fool, and in love."
She nestles her forehead with his, warmth to his cool, but she leaps out into the rain before he may complete the kiss, meeding him no anodyne.
"I will remember!" he solicits, and chases her mischief.
I will remember you, my love.
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