He had opened his eyes in a small cottage by the sea, and the first thing he had seen was her face, lined with centuries, her hair white as winter frost. He had wept.
“You’re brooding,” Kaname said.
Kaname. Yuki.
“Will you stay?” she whispered. It was an old question, asked every night since his return.
Outside, the rain softened to a mist. Inside, the fire popped once, then settled. Yuki tilted her face up, and Kaname kissed her forehead, her nose, the corner of her lips—each touch a vow. kaname x yuuki
“Do you ever miss it?” she asked. “Power. Worship. Fear.”
The rain fell in silver threads over the Kuran estate, washing the ancient stones until they gleamed like wet bone. Inside, the world was silent save for the soft crackle of a fireplace and the distant sigh of wind through the pines. He had opened his eyes in a small
He smiled. It was a small, fragile thing—nothing like the cold, sharp smile of the pureblood prince she had first met. This smile was only for her.