Worse Sins

Braska/Jecht. G. 100 words. Pastfic.
Another smudge of ash on your already jaded name.

You watched him, breath steaming in the air between you, snowflakes caught on his eyelashes. The white made him so dark, another smudge of ash on your already jaded name.

You didn’t care. In the end, no one did. There are worse sins in the world than love. A dying man’s last wish. He missed his wife, his child. So did you.

He broke the ice clutching the hem of your robe, callused hands familiar and sure. Broke you just as easily, shattered a lifetime of regret; picked up the glistening shards of tears and melted them on his lips.

End

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