You resemble an angel in every way; glowing from your fingertips till the ends of your hair. You're holy, and pure. Untainted by this world, yet at the same time it beckons to him. It wants, needs to destroy something that pristine.

He is the darkness of the Abyss, the antithesis of the light. He fears what may happen if the abyss ever touches your soul. Yet, he can't help but reach out to your light..

He sees himself as a mere moth attracted to your warmth; but he knows that he's not welcome. . . . He stumbles upon you sitting down by the lake. His senses are on high alert, his hand on the hilt of his sword. For a few seconds, he is not sure if he should strike or speak first.

Until he realizes that it is you; glowing as always. His instincts melt away, and he walks toward you cautiously. His voice wavers, as if asking for permission. "May I join you?"