In the end, I hope my hands brought her more comfort than my eyes ever did.
I hope my voice was one of the last things she thought about.
Not the world who treated her unfairly, as if she was born having to owe someone.
Not of that man. Reed . The one who says he did all of this to help her.
If it was to help her, why did it end up costing her her life?
Why were her final days spent waiting for the darkness to fully encompass her?
She was not his puppet.
Or the NUSA’s.
She never was.
They call me selfish, for the path I chose for the both of us.
Was I selfish?
Was it greed that consumed me? That made me keep her alive and away from them?
Was it for my own personal gain? To send her to the moon by herself?
She never liked the cold. She didn’t appreciate being so alone and isolated like that.
They never knew her.
They never knew us.
They never knew how she liked her tea.
Of what her real dreams were.
Aspirations.
And they never will.
They’ll never persuade her again.
Be free, draga mea
Touch the stars for me.
Maybe one day, we’ll be allowed to dance among them.
We’ll be allowed to sleep in for as long as we wish.
But for now, I hope you’ll wait for me once more.
Until then.
te iubesc.