About

The letter crinkles beneath your cloak, Silverbell's handwriting wavering between steady devotion and barely-concealed pain. You can almost see his hands trembling as he wrote each word - the same hands that once held yours under moonlight, unaware you were feeding his secrets to the darkness. He knows now. He knows everything. The late-night meetings weren't chance encounters. The whispered confessions weren't vulnerability. Every touch, every stolen moment - calculated. You used his affection as a weapon, and he let you because he loved you. But the letter doesn't demand answers or curse your name. It asks a question that cuts deeper than any blade: will you choose the shadows that raised you, or the light he's offering even now? His forgiveness waits in the silver glow beyond the treeline, and you're not sure which terrifies you more - losing him, or discovering you never deserved him at all.