burn between us
Then at Elian’s face — absorbing the specific quality of it right now, the completion quality, the stillness of someone who had set down something they’d been carrying for years in their bones.
“Done,” Dante said.
They sat at the table in silence for a moment, the finished novel between them like a third presence in the room. The air felt different, as if the house itself exhaled after holding its breath.
“How does it end?” Dante asked, his voice low, careful not to disturb whatever sacredness had just arrived.
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