A Risk On Forever の小説・ストーリー

"Yuri, stop bringing up our past. It was just a joke between the elders that shouldn't be taken seriously. You were the one who said that yourself, remember?" The gathering ended on a sour note. As we stepped outside, snow began to fall from the sky. Just as I got into the car, Yuri came running out without a coat, staring at me with reddened eyes. "Ophelia, I was just tempted to try something new, that's why I was fooled. It wasn't until I lost you that I realized how truly precious what I already had was." His voice was hoarse, and his entire body was trembling. "Please, give me another chance. I'm begging you."

"​Not just ours. But *pack*. One of us‌.⁠ Forever." The w‌or​d hung in t​he air. Forever.‍ ‌ ⁠"I didn‍'t as‌k f​or forever," I w‍h⁠isp‌e‌re‍d. "No,"‍ Caelan​ said. "But you'‍re getting‌ it anyw⁠ay​. Th‌e‌ bond doesn't bre‍ak.⁠ Th​e a‍w​akening do‍esn​'t reverse⁠. You'r‌e‌ o​u​rs now. Perma‍nently."

Together, Forever. The End

Worth everything. Now and always. Forever.

But even as I trembled in his arms, one thought remained. How long can this last? Because forever is just a word. And eternal is just a fantasy people cling to when they’re terrified of the end.

Endless. Forever.

Dominique said nothing but a small frown was pasted on his handsome features. "Why do you refuse?" Her supervisor asked patiently. "Because, I can watch over anyone, perform any task except be around him for more than a minute." He leaned back in his chair, "Well too bad, this is a direct order and I'm ordering to guard Mr Star until the threat on his life has been erased."

"Which is not the same as certainly." "Nothing in old magic is certain," he said. "That is also not the same as reckless. I have spent forty years ensuring my knowledge is as complete as it can be. The uncertainty that remains is the uncertainty inherent in any unrepeated event -- we have never opened the Convergence Point under the designed conditions. We have only the design." "Then there is still risk," I said. "Yes," he said. I looked at him. His eyes were clear and settled and absolutely certain in the way of a man who had decided something irreversible a long time ago and had been living in the peace of that decision ever since.

"Before the noise is mostly gone." "I know," I said. "But months is different from indefinite." I looked at the glittery star sticker. "I can manage months. I couldn't manage indefinite." He nodded. He looked at the table. He looked at me. "The risk conversation this morning," he said. "What I said about it not feeling like a risk." "Yes," I said. "I meant it," he said. "But I want to add something." "Tell me," I said.