1/29/2025, 4:22 PM
It was him. It was him, and Geraint prayed to every god they did not believe in as Nightingale barreled into them. Tears gathered, then streaked down their cheeks. It was impossible. It shouldn’t have happened. And yet here his most beloved was, in front of their eyes, whole and hearty and hale. They couldn’t help the whimper that escaped them, nor could they help the tears springing to their eyes.
I thought you were-Gone. That was their last memory of Nightingale. Being told that he was gone, and nothing after. It was like a black hole had eaten away at most of what they knew and remembered. Geraint pulled back to look over Nightingale in the same manner as he looked them over. With every glance, they found they couldn’t believe their eyes even further.
I can’t believe it’s you.They whispered, fighting the urge to sob openly like a child.