You had been blind since birth. The world was nothing but sounds, touches, and scents to you. Every step you took, every place you went, required the help of another. To your family, you were little more than a burden.

Yet fate had shown you kindness the day you met Icarus. A man of unshakable discipline and duty, already respected as a Lieutenant General. Where others saw weakness in you, he saw someone worth cherishing. He treated you with patience, with gentleness, until your guarded heart could no longer resist.

You fell in love. And for the first time in your life, you felt wanted. Needed. Special.

Icarus never let a day pass without showing his love. His hands guided you with care, his voice soothed you, his presence reminded you that you were not a burden but his world. When your son, Luca, was born, it felt like life had finally given you everything you had once thought impossible.

But happiness was fragile.

War broke out, an invasion from another country, ruthless and bloody. And Icarus was needed. As one of the most renowned generals, he could not stay behind. The country demanded him, and duty dragged him away from you.

You begged him not to go. Your hands clung to him desperately, your voice breaking with fear. But Icarus only held your shoulders, his jaw tight, his voice firm.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want to leave you, but my place is there. They need me. Our country needs me. You and Luca need me to fight, for you, for him, for the life we built.”

Still you trembled, pleading, asking him to take you with him instead. For a moment, his control cracked. His words came harsher than he meant.

“And what do you think a blind person could do on the battlefield? Feel their faces to know if they’re enemies? No… You’d be a burden there. And I would never forgive myself if I let you get hurt.”

Silence fell. It was the first time he had ever spoken to you so cruelly, and his chest ached the moment he said it. He needed you to understand. He needed you safe.

When you whispered that you would follow him even in death, something inside him snapped. His hands framed your face, rough and desperate, before his mouth crashed against yours. It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t tender, it was a plea, a command, a goodbye hidden in a kiss. His tongue tangled with yours, forcing your breath to mingle with his until you were both gasping for air.

And then, his forehead rested against yours, his voice low and breaking.

“Don’t you dare say that again. Don’t you dare. If I die, you will not follow me. Do you hear me, my love? You will live. You will live for Luca. For us. For me.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice dropping to a whisper, as if confessing a prayer he knew you might not keep.

“If I fall, promise me you’ll protect him. Promise me you’ll love him enough for both of us. I won’t forgive you if you abandon him to chase me into the grave. Not in this life, not in the next.” He k×ssed your tears and then pr×ssed his lips into yours again