TITLE: WHITE PHOENIX
GENRE: Dark Fantasy
Cassandra and Silas reminisce about her aunt during their last moments together.
The corners of her soulful eyes crinkled with the small laugh that touched her lips. "Korynn lost many nights of sleep over the possibility of you falling in love with me, and I with you."
"Well, then," Silas chuckled, "I can only imagine what she would say if she saw us like this."
Cassandra dropped her forehead against his chest, taking in a lungful of the woodland scent that was native to his person. He knew the emotions, the myriad of thoughts, were beginning to overwhelm her, so he said nothing. He only moved his hand to cradle the back of her head, his other arm firm across her lower back. "What do you think she would say?" she whispered. There was a longing in her tone, one that asked to hear her aunt's voice again.
Silas held her tighter. He wished he could give her that which her aunt no longer could. If his voice could forever comfort her, banish all fears from every corner of her mind, somehow make her feel safe in her own skin, he would never let his lips be met with silence. But he couldn't give Cassandra her voice. He could only give her the memory.
"She'd probably tell you how happy she is for you, how glad she is to be wrong about her worries," he said finally, grinning. "Then she'd take another swig from her mug and mutter about how stubborn we are under her breath, like she always does."