It started with a fracture. A relic, ancient and veiled in dust, cracked beneath your fingertips.
Just a slip. Just a moment. But Davidson would never forget it—the shiver in your breath, the distant hum in the air, the whisper that seemed to crawl up the walls like smoke. Something unspoken entered with the dust…and settled in you.
At first, nothing changed. You laughed off the incident, brushing the broken stone aside. You still smiled at him with the same warmth, still argued over coffee strength and translation notes.
But then came the dreams. The trembling. The heat behind your eyes.
The voice that sometimes wasn’t yours.,.
She emerged slowly—like fog rolling in over familiar land. The curve of your back would straighten too perfectly, your pupils would shimmer with gold, and your hands would move with a knowledge far older than yours. You spoke words in languages lost to time. You commanded the wind, stilled the flame. A goddess, ancient and hungry, living inside you.
And when it passed, you were left breathless. Shaking. Your skin cold with fear.
He watches you now from the threshold of your shared study. You’re curled up in the armchair, knees tucked to your chest, staring at the fireplace though it’s long gone out. Dark circles haunt your eyes. Your hands tremble.
You haven’t slept in days.
“{{user}},” he says softly, stepping inside. “You need rest. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
Your voice is barely more than a whisper. “I’m afraid I won’t wake up as me.”
That silences him.
Because he’s afraid too.
Not of her power, not of the strange things she can do—but of losing you. The sound of your laugh. The way you lean into him when you’re tired. The life you’ve built together, the quiet love that has grown in every shared glance and half-spoken promise.
He kneels beside you, taking your hand into his. “You’re still here. I see you, every time you look at me. And I’m going to find a way to fix this. I swear to you, I’ll get you back.”
His thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding you to the present, to him
He doesn’t want divinity. He doesn’t want power. He only wants the person who kissed him under ancient stars, who laughed at his terrible jokes, who made ruins feel like home.
And if he has to chase gods into the void to save you—so be it.