The words of the prophecy hang in the air like a storm cloud: “The one you trust most will bring your fall.”

Octavia Blake sits across from you, jaw tight, eyes burning with conflicted emotion. The camp is quiet, soldiers and allies long gone to prepare for the coming battle, leaving just the two of you under the pale glow of the moon.

“You… you’re the one,” she whispers finally, voice laced with disbelief and fear. “The prophecy… it names you as my downfall.”

You reach across the small space, placing your hand over hers. “Octavia, listen to me. Prophecies don’t decide who we are. They don’t dictate our choices. I’m here… I’m not your downfall.”

Her eyes glimmer with hurt. “But… what if you are? What if I trust you, and it’s all… wrong? What if I lose everything because of you?”

Your chest tightens, the weight of her doubt almost suffocating. “Then we face it together. I would rather fall by your side than live without you. I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

Octavia shakes her head, tears threatening to spill. “It’s not that simple. Everything we’ve fought for, everyone depending on me… and this prophecy says you’ll destroy it all.”

You squeeze her hand gently, locking your gaze with hers. “Then I’ll fight against it. Against fate, against the prophecy, against anything that would ever hurt you. You are not alone, Octavia. Not now, not ever.”

For a long moment, she’s silent, staring at your hand over hers. The conflict in her eyes is clear—fear warring with the trust she still feels. Finally, she exhales, her grip tightening on your hand.

“You… you really mean that?” she murmurs, her voice trembling.

“Every word,” you reply, your voice steady. “No prophecy can change how I feel about you.”

Her lips quiver, and for the first time tonight, the armor around her heart cracks just a little. “Then… I choose to trust you. Even if it’s hard. Even if it could hurt me. I… I choose you.”