The sky was bright and the stars were hanging low, as if suspended on strings. It was the sort of night when foppish peoples much like the king of Figaro would have a lavish party.
On the railing overlooking a bit of sea sat a lone man and a lone woman. Several feet apart, one swung their legs while the other looked on a the rippling reflections of the night sky.
“You know you don't have to do this,” he said, brushing his brown hair back from his face.
“I know,” she replied softly.
“I wish you wouldn't. I wish you could speak up and say what you're feeling.”
“Well, why don't you?”
The mint haired girl sat there in silence for a few moments. The words rested behind her lips, but she wondered briefly if she should say them. How would he react?
“Terra, you could die. You do know that, right? I mean, everybody is worried about you,” his tone was sharp, twinged with grief. He couldn't look at her like this. She had been melancholy ever since they found out about magic disappearing.
The words rushed out then, “I'm going to go through with this to protect you. You and everybody else need to live, so I have to...the world will be better then...”
Locke nearly fell off the railing when he scooted over to her side too quickly. With a giggle, Terra helped steady her friend. Locke said nothing more, and only squeezed her hand, and laid his head on her shoulder.
Terra smiled down at him, her chest and stomach fluttering with feelings anew.
They continued watching the waves crinkle the sky, and stayed close for what felt like the first time.