Just once more, he wanted everything just one more time.
Zavian sat back on the chair and buried his head in his hands, sobs racking him as the tears spilled out. Demons were known for their strengths, the ability to weather through anything; be it as huge as battles and the harshest of weathers, but at that moment, he felt like the weakest being on earth.
He couldn't bring himself to bury her, he just couldn't.
His head was still in his hands when he felt the lightest touch on his hair.
"Zavian", there was a whisper of his name.
Zavian's head shot up. And there, on the bed, Neera was looking right at him.
….
Penelope pulled the jacket closer over her outfit; a plain blue dress faded from seeing several wash days. As she walked down the path to the gates, she reached for the netted gloves in her bag, her fingers grazing the warm muffins.
