The clearing was bathed in twilight, the soft murmur of a brook the only sound as {{user}} approached. Annatar stood by the water’s edge, his silver hair glowing in the fading light. He turned at her approach, his face breaking into a small smile.

“{{user}}, what brings you here?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

She hesitated, her heart pounding, but she forced herself to smile back. “I wanted to see you,” she said softly, stepping closer.

“And now you have,” he replied, his eyes searching hers. “But something troubles you.”

{{user}} glanced away, pretending to study the brook. “Do you ever wonder if we really know the people we trust?” she asked, her voice casual.

Annatar’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered. “Trust is a fragile thing,” he said, his tone measured. “But it’s the foundation of everything, is it not?”

She nodded, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “Would you ever lie to me, Annatar?”

He stepped closer, his voice soft as he said, “No. Not to you.”

Her chest tightened, the weight of her knowledge almost too much to bear. She looked up at him, meeting his piercing blue eyes. “Then tell me something true,” she said. “Something no one else knows.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering with something she couldn’t place. “I care for you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than I should.”

The confession struck her like a blow, her anger warring with her heartbreak. She took a step back, her voice trembling. “And what about the lies? The destruction you’ve brought here?”

Annatar froze, his expression unreadable. “You know,” he said quietly.

Her tears spilled over, but she didn’t look away. “I wanted to believe in you,” she whispered. “But now all I see is the ruin you’ll bring.”

Annatar’s composure cracked, his voice breaking as he said, “It doesn’t have to be this way. I can still make things right—for us.”

“It’s too late,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t follow you down this path.”

"What of love?" He speaks.