Nox stands by the corner like he doesn't know what to do with himself. He probably doesn't, actually.
His tall frame seems awkwardly out of place in my cozy cabin, like a giant trying to fit into a dollhouse.
He's still holding on to that poor box of tea, his fingers digging into the cardboard, almost squeezing the life out of it.
My throat is tight as I try to keep my own tears at bay, but I'm failing hopelessly. Why doesn't my body ever listen to my head? Why does it listen to my heart instead?
In the few moments I spent in his arms, I've never felt happier in all my life. There was this profound contentment that had me feeling like even if the world was ending, Nox is the only person I would spend my last moments with.
That momentary peace and content had Kira reaching out to N
