𝐒𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 | 𝟏𝟖+

☽♡ 2 ♡☾

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖔

❝Truth, an unwavering beacon, remains obscured as long as we navigate the labyrinth of avoidance.❞

Saphyrine debated whether to leave him be, maybe quietly running away around him or to intervene. The intricate tapestry of emotions and past grievances seemed to drag her further into the pool. The water would maybe swallow her whole and she would not have to deal with him again. It wasn't about him, but her. Saphyrine couldn't bear the thought of him being submerged in her destructive and self-destructive tendencies.

Perhaps he could manage on his own there. However, the healer within her refused to ignore someone in need. He struggled, gasping for air, and the sound made her ears ache. Rowan was supposed to be fine and protected without her. She used to be the thorn in his heart.

Saphyrine let out a protracted, resolute sigh, closed her book, and strode toward Rowan. With a sweeping motion of her hand, she invoked a charm, summoning her clothes lying nearby. The fabric met her grasp just as the disheveled state of Rowan caught her attention. It tugged at her heart. His hair was tousled, a raven hue that haunted her dreams—those dreams where she yearned for him more than anything. His form was haphazardly strewn near the entrance, and the cold flooring must have felt icy against his body.

Kneeling beside him, Saphyrine struggled to put on her clothes when suddenly, he began to choke. Her hands moved swiftly, without hesitation, finding his neck and adjusting his head posture. Her touch on his skin sent static through her body, she cursed herself for the feeling. She missed him dearly all the time and lied to herself she could survive without his presence. His state on the floor in front of her snapped her back to reality once more. A frown creased her forehead. He was blackout drunk, and the haze in his brain might lead him to choke on his own. How could he allow himself to drink this much, especially alone? She swallowed hard, fervently hoping he was truly alone. The last thing she needed was Adryn catching sight of her with him.

His eyes were shut, head hanging heavily in her hands, and she sensed from his body language that he might puke soon.

She swiftly helped him get it out from himself aside without staining his clothes, then without a second thought, she cast a charm to clean up the mess and then gently straightened his head again.

He shivered under her grasp and slowly opened his eyes, heavy eyelids revealing a glossy sight. He seemed to be in a different headspace, flying in a realm of his own. Curious, she decided to test if his head would stay in place without her support for a moment. His unaware pointy look made her uneasy — and his scent. Even with the whiskey lingering around him, her nose caught the well-known fresh fragrance of lemon, cedar and sandalwood. Being around him was now hell. She winced at his glare — he was now looking her up and down, slowly darting on her half dressed frame. She managed to put on one sleeve of her dress properly, her back still bare, to toss her hand to a pocket. With a vial in her hand, she leaned toward Rowan once more, undoing the lid and presenting a healing potion to his lips. With a scrunch of his nose, he groaned and pressed his lips into a thin line. She frowned; he needed to drink it to sober up a little, or he could risk choking. Panic welled up within her, and the hole in her chest seemed to grow. He needed to collect himself and go far away from her.

"Rowan," she called softly, trying not to startle him. His unfocused gaze met hers, and for a moment, recognition flickered.

"Sapphire?" he mumbled, a touch of surprise coloring his voice. The old nickname slipped from his lips, causing her to wince. It felt surreal; his words shouldn't hold this much emotional weight for her. She swallowed the remnants of her hopes for a happy ending, perhaps in some alternate universe. He deserved something better.