Shadows Heart

The rooftop view was stunning. For a moment, as I looked out over the city, I forgot about the chains, the fights, and the suffocating tension between us. For a moment, it felt like it could all be okay.

But when we came back inside, reality returned. I glanced at Oriel, standing a few steps behind me, his face a mix of exhaustion and hope. His confession still echoed in my mind: "You're all I have left. If you left, I don't know what I'd do."

It wasn't just fear driving him. It was loneliness, desperation, and something deeper—something that made my chest ache despite my anger.

I hated what he'd done. But as I looked at him, his shoulders slumped, his eyes dark and heavy with regret, I felt something else stir in me.

Pity.

Oriel followed me into the living room, his steps hesitant, as if he were afraid to break the fragile peace between us. I sat down on the couch, curling my legs beneath me, and he lingered by the doorway.

"You can sit, you know," I said, my voice softer than I expected.

His eyes flicked to me, cautious, before he nodded and sat at the far end of the couch. He kept his distance, his hands clasped in his lap, and for a moment, the silence between us felt unbearable.

"I'm not going to leave," I said quietly, breaking the tension.

His head snapped up, his eyes searching mine. "You mean it?"

"Yes," I said, though my voice wavered slightly. "But not because of... what you did. I'm staying because I care about you, Oriel. I don't want you to be alone."

His expression shifted, something like relief washing over his features. But I wasn't finished.

"That doesn't mean I forgive you," I added, my tone firm. "What you did was wrong. You hurt me, Oriel."

He flinched, his hands tightening into fists. "I know," he said softly. "And I'll make it up to you. I promise."

I nodded, unsure if I believed him, but too tired to argue.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" he asked suddenly, his voice tentative.

The question caught me off guard, and I blinked at him. "A movie?"

"Yeah," he said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "We haven't had a movie night in... well, forever."

The idea of doing something normal, something easy and comforting, felt strange but oddly appealing.

"Okay," I said slowly. "What do you have in mind?"

He stood up, heading toward the shelf where a small collection of DVDs was neatly arranged. "You still like animated movies, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not twelve anymore, Oriel."

He smirked, pulling out a case and holding it up. "What about this one? It's a classic."

I glanced at the cover and couldn't help but smile. "Fine. But only because it's a classic."

The living room was warm and cozy, the soft glow of the lamp casting golden light over the walls. I wrapped a blanket around myself as Oriel fiddled with the DVD player, muttering under his breath when it didn't cooperate.

When he finally got the movie started, he sat back down on the couch, closer this time. He glanced at me hesitantly, like he was waiting for permission.

I sighed and lifted the edge of the blanket. "Come on," I said, my tone more resigned than inviting.

His eyes lit up, and he slid closer, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I stiffened for a moment, but his warmth was comforting, and I let myself relax against him.

As the movie played, I felt the tension between us ease, little by little. Oriel's laugh was soft and genuine when something funny happened, and I found myself smiling despite everything.

For a little while, it felt like things were normal again. Like we were just two people sharing a quiet night, the weight of our fights and betrayals forgotten.

But deep down, I knew the peace was fragile. The wounds between us hadn't healed—they were just hidden for the moment.

When the movie ended, Oriel didn't move. His arm stayed around me, his fingers brushing gently against my shoulder.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"For what?" I asked, tilting my head to look at him.

"For giving me another chance," he said, his light eyes meeting mine.

I didn't respond. I wasn't sure if I'd really given him another chance, or if I was just too tired to fight anymore.

But as I rested my head against his shoulder, I let myself believe, just for a moment, that maybe things could get better.