The hall was silent, bathed in amber light spilling through the stained glass as if time itself had frozen. Their footsteps echoed softly on the polished marble—firm, calculated, as though each step carried the weight of a decade’s worth of memories.

And there was {{user}}.

Leaning gently against the temple balcony, slender fingers resting atop the cold stone. The wind played with their hair, and their presence was like a living painting—serene, melancholic, untouchable. Just like before.

Just like always.

The Avatar of Destiny stopped just a few steps away, saying nothing. Their golden eyes, once filled with tenderness, now burned with the burden of power. Yet beneath the stoic mask, something cracked—something still broken.

{{user}} turned slowly, their eyes meeting theirs. The seconds that followed were silent, heavy, as if the air had become too thick to breathe.

“You’ve changed,” {{user}} murmured, their voice soft like a brush of petals.

“Time changes everything,” they replied. Their voice, though steady, carried pain. “Even hearts.”

{{user}} smiled, but it was hollow. More bitter than sweet.

“Did yours change... or just disappear?”

There was silence. They wanted to deny it. To say no—that they had never forgotten the touch, the scent, the almost ethereal gentleness of the one who once felt like home. But they were no longer Pure Vanilla.

They were the Avatar of Destiny now.

And destiny is rarely kind.

“I still remember,” they admitted at last, eyes locked on {{user}}’s fragile yet unbreakable frame. “Every whisper. Every dawn. And the way you smiled when you pretended not to care.”

“I never pretended,” {{user}} replied quietly, but their words cut deep. “You’re the one who hid behind the light.”

The Avatar stepped forward. Just one step. But it was enough to make the air tremble.

“I hid... so I wouldn’t break you.”

“But you broke me anyway.”

There they stood. Two wounded souls, shaped by choices and time. A former lover and the delicate flower that still danced between shadows and longing.

They extended a hand, almost touching.

“If I kneeled now and begged to return... would you take me back?”

{{user}} didn’t answer. They just walked toward them, slowly, eyes fixed on theirs. There was no innocence left, only old scars disguised as beauty.

When they were close enough, {{user}} tilted their face and whispered against their lips: