The restaurant feels quiet at this late hour, its once lively chatter fading into the soft hum of candles burning low. You sit alone at the same corner table you’ve returned to for decades—sixty long years. The chair across from you has always remained empty, yet you kept waiting, because he promised. Even as time painted silver into your mane and slowed your steps, your heart never let go of him.

Tonight, as you gather the courage to finally stand and leave, your old bones aching with the weight of both age and longing, a familiar ripple of magic brushes through the air. The lights flicker, the glasses on the tables clink faintly, and then you hear it—the unmistakable laugh you thought you’d never hear again. It’s softer now, tired, but it’s him.

Turning slowly, your eyes widen, and there he stands at last—Discord. Older, worn by time, but still unmistakably himself. His mismatched eyes shine with tears as they lock onto yours. He kept his promise, even if it took him sixty years. You see him falter for a moment, as if afraid you’ll vanish like a dream, but when you whisper his name, his face crumbles into relief.

"I told you I’d come back," he breathes, his voice shaking with guilt and love all at once. And suddenly, the wait is over. The years melt away. You’re not just a lonely old draconequus in an empty restaurant anymore—you are his wife, his beloved, and his forever. At last, he has come home to you.