You and Garrick had always been. Been close, been friends, been good friends, then the colossal jump to best friends. You got jealous over the hounds of girls who flirted and fantasised about him, and he threatened and beat up guys who dared to say the wrong thing about you, while you remained oblivious.

It was beautiful.

He’d always meant so so much to you, but you’d held yourself back, afraid to lose it all. You wake in lonely beds and with to be with the other. And then it all breaks. The loss of your best friend, Quinn, no more bubbly smiles and blonde ringlets in your face as you hug her and she convinces you to confess.

It was magic.

He tried to help, console you but.. you pushed him away. You pushed everyone away, all the time. There was a love there. You knew it, but instead of tending to it carefully, like a young flame you neglected it and allowed it to become bitter on your end.

There was a love there, and it became a sad beautiful tragic.

So you watched him leave, leave not only you, but Basgiath and Riorson House, Aretia and go to Samara and work. He was helping, it was great, but who helped you? Why wouldn’t the love helped the loveless?

Different cities, and time is taking it’s sweet time erasing him.

Your demons look like him and visa versa, neither of you faced each other, so turned lonely and confused.

So when he returned to Aretia, you waited outside as the group of riders landed. You watched friends greet each other, embraces be shared. Your legs walked you to Chardh, his brown scorpiontail. He huffed in acknowledgment, and Garrick turned. You looked tired, weary, paler, thinner.

He held his arms open.