“Oh my gods,” she corrected, though her eyes could not believe what she was seeing. This had to be some sort of dream.
He made himself small, eyes fixated on the ground in front of him. The thoughts
plaguing his mind hampered any kind of excitement or happiness, or the little of
it he could actually experience, from seeing her again. He wondered how long
she was left waiting this time. How many nights she spent alone before she
found another to fulfill the void in her heart and between her thighs he had
left her, yet again. Time was not a concept for him; he had plenty of it.
An eternity of it.
There was no guilt. His isolation had manifested the core parts of him that
allowed him to perform his duties unbothered - the apathy, the introversion, the
want need to be alone. The pillars of Charon that, for years, she had tried to
break past, unsuccessfully.
A long exhale slowed his mind and he reluctantly rose his head to look at her.
“Izrsebet.”