nothing but thin slits of fabric who would walk the streets in search of a man with money to spend, and yes, I had money to spend. But who doesn't?

Either way, my one-time things, and relationships went nowhere. The reality that no one would live long enough to spend my whole life with me...that reality kills the fun. Plus, who needs a man when you've got a best friend who will forever be yours always? Rohana and I are inseparable, and I love her and thank the Gods - who I currently want to murder - that they gave me her. But sometimes, in moments when I'm thinking about it like these, that hole in my chest that feels like there's one kind of love I'm missing makes me think that maybe, just maybe, finding someone to live their life out with wouldn't be such a bad thing.

There have been plenty of guys I've thought about letting in, but they've never gotten close to filling that hole. The only one who has...dear Gods I can't believe that one kiss is still crystal clear locked up in the back of my head. I've been shoving it down there and ignoring its whispers for months now - or days...I don't know, this whole Blight time difference is messing with me.

Even then, he's still there. He's still looking at me with those warm honey-colored eyes that made me feel all fluttery inside. I never feel warm inside. And Saints his smile could calm any storm raging in my head. It wasn't even me he was looking at, but a whole other person entirely. He liked Hiraeth, and when I was brought out of the soul stone, I saw that in his eyes. I saw how Garrison's walls went up, how one moment he went from wanting to stop me from screaming in pain to backing away because he didn't know what to do.

Some stupid part of me had hoped that he backed away because he was just stunned that such magic was possible, but after the cycles of training and constantly ensuring we were never in the same ring, that hope dwindled. Everyone was always too focused on Rohana and her mind fuckings with Henry to notice how we always stood opposite of each other. If we were any closer than that he'd turn to a stone-faced guard and I'd find the quickest way to get to Clarice's side and keep my attention on her.
Saints, I didn't even think about how many times I did that until now. I suppose sitting alone in a firelit cave with a humanoid killing machine will really shed some light on things.

I remember what it felt like to kiss him. I remember how his lips fit perfectly against mine and how he only ever gave me soft kisses as if afraid to hurt me. Gods I was so fragile then. I don't even want to remember how I looked. Part of me is happy I never came across a mirror.

His hand traveled to my cheek to wipe away my pathetic tears which made me shudder, and then my hand was on his chest, feeling that his heart was beating just as quickly as mine. My mind went blank after that, getting lost in him and feeling time slow in those dusty tunnels. I wanted time to stop - Gods I wanted more of him, and that scares me now because it was only one damn kiss - okay it was a few - and I want more. I think of that kiss and I picture his lips elsewhere. I think of those liquid honey eyes and my body tingles in places it shouldn't be tingling. One kiss and he's beneath my skin, running in my blood, and tangled on my tongue. And it scares me.

It scares me to know that no one in my past has given me this flying above the clouds and invincible feeling. My stomach shouldn't tighten at the thought of him and those cursed lips. My legs shouldn't clutch together nor my hand clench to feel his beating heart.

All of this scares me!

I've lived a hundred years, and I'll live a hundred more. He'll have decades - if that. What hope is there for us? A part of him knows that. A part of him has to know that, because Gods and Saints and immortality be damned, I'm inches away from damning it all and getting my scent all over him. All over him.

Maybe this is just my uterus talking. Maybe my stupid heart is hallucinating and my not having had sex in several decades is getting to me. But he's the last thing I think of before I fall asleep, and he and his soft lips and nectar sunlit eyes are the only fucking thing I dream of.