My moonlight—Aisultan.

Alyssa stepped out of the garden, and with Fen'ra waiting at the entrance, they waved at him, before the shadowy trees overtook their disappearing figures. Eli gazed out at the slow dance of the trees, listening to the humming buzz accompany the lukewarm air.

"I thought I'd be feeling... heartbroken right now. And yet, it feels as if it's just the beginning of another evening with you, Aisultan."

"Does it now?"

Amber—reflecting a dazzling gleam. Intense. Swirling. Loving, yet soul-ripped. Sweet, syrupy adoration, yet wretched conflicting sadness.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean it like that."

Aisultan took his hand, and parasol with the other, before leading Eli out the pagoda. "It's alright—but no more apologies—there's not enough time to be sorry. If there were... I think I have many more than a little misworded sentence."

"Right."

"How was the dessert party?"

"So, unbelievably perfect. The desserts were wondrous—you take them for granted, Aisultan. Because I could banter on forever on their delicate sweetness."

"I have a more savory palate."

"I know you do," Eli laughed. "Elijah has a whole list of restaurants tabbed with your favorite dishes."

"I know it was your doing, Eli love—you're just crediting him. But thank you."

"...right," Eli coughed, turning away to inspect the tree, embarrassed. Then his voice leapt with a gasp.

"The tree! How did you manage to..."

Eli ducked under frozen branches and hopped over looping roots, neck craned as the peach-lavender light imbued the ice with a warm, ethereal fae glow. Specks of floating pinks and firelight oranges spun with his body, as he yanked Aisultan around to inspect the ice blossom tree with infinite, overflowing awe.

"Perhaps a bit of good timing and so."

"And the flowers—they're so bright too. Prettier than anything I've ever seen."

"Yes," Aisultan agreed, tracing the dusted color atop the bridge of Eli's nose, "there has never been anything so full of unworldly beauty."

A glinting streak caught Eli's attention like a string taut to a hook—he bent over, pulling Aisultan down by the sleeve. An open burrow of ice was littered by an arch of tiny vines and flowers. A laying fox with nine tails curled around a tortoise reaching up for one of the fluffy, dangling tails. Eli's breath was unable to find its way—as his heart jumped, and his shaking fingers traced the sculpted animals—the icy material the only indicator of what the cozy scene was made of.

"I'm still mad at you for that," Eli muttered. He stroked the fox with a finger, again and again.

"How was I supposed to know you were no more than a vampire's beloved pet," Aisultan laughed, catching the hand. His grasp was loose. Eli made no movement to escape the gentle hand.

"You weren't—you treated me how I was. How I am now. This carving. It's new, isn't it?"

"I made it for you."

"It's adorable, Aisultan—I love it so much. Say, you really are better at carving a fox than I. His face is a bit too symmetrical and regal if I might critique..."

Aisultan pulled Eli up, interrupting his words.

"They're perfect," Aisultan insisted, hugging his waist. Eli draped his arms over Aisultan's neck, hands pulling apart the tangled silver strands wound into his fingers. Aisultan's hair glowed with the same, soft colors. So light and glowing they may dissipate alongside the setting rays. And yet, Eli found himself infatuated with the glow coloring Aisultan's cheeks and neck. Colors blended into new hues of pinks and yellows with disappearing seconds—more beautiful than the stained-glass roof of the Saintess Church.

"You're perfect," Eli blurted.

The building tension bubbled away as they laughed. Aisultan's tails flicked here and there, before settling around Eli's waist and wrist. He put his palm to cheek—Eli's tilted his head and let the thumb run against his brow.

"It's like I'm falling in love with you all over again, Eli love."

Eli's twinkling laugh merged with the singing of the clinking ice leaves. He stepped back from Aisultan's embrace.

"What a coincidence," he said, before straightening up, "because I feel the same way."

Eli dropped to a knee. The small, pocketed box unfurled within his closed palm. Aisultan's tails curled and uncurled with rapid, swimming swirls.

"Aisultan, will you marry me? By oath of the moon?"

Two glinting rings swirled with silver and gold—a simply cut ruby embedded into both—with vines tenderly swirling, holding the gemstones up. They matched. They were two of a pair—one of a kind. And they were his and Aisultan's. No one else's.

"I swear, for as long as the moon continues to hold bright in the sky—I will be yours."

Tears dropped down—Eli's tears. He didn't wipe them. Instead, he carefully held Aisultan's hand and slid the ring on. Smooth—perfectly made for his finger. Before he could do anything further, Aisultan knelt too. He took the remaining ring. Aisultan pressed Eli's hand to his lips and kissed it to the knuckle with feather-light breaths, before sliding the ring on.

"I'm brimming with so many unanswered questions, Aisultan. I want to learn everything about you—I want to know everything about the world you live in. What your favorite part of the book you're currently reading is. How you fare with your parents. Who the people you spend time with are, back in your village. What it's like, to travel the world, so free and yet so on your lonesome. If you were scared. I wanted you to answer—and I wanted to be the one to hug you like so—kiss you like so. Explain that it's all in the past. I wanted... to have enough time to tell you the everything of everything—of me and Elijah. Aisultan, I..."

Eli's voice cracked. Aisultan touched his face. His wet cheeks. The plastered dark hair at their side. The slightly singed brows. Eli's throat gurgled with remorse, as he managed to spit out the remaining words in sparse breaths.

"I wanted more time with you—I'm so, hopelessly selfish and in love—and I don't regret it at all—Aisultan. I wanted to be with you from now on. I wanted to be with you at every change and see what your future looks like. Aisultan, I wanted you. I wanted everything—to the point where I didn't want anything else."

"Eli, I..."

The strength Aisultan held onto in his comforting voice, broke down into brittle pieces as his lips pressed into a trembling line. A wavering, weak gleam in his eyes—Eli closed his eyes as tried to will away the haggard breaths—unable to let the heartbroken sound wither their remaining time away.

Eli then smiled. His laughter echoed; hoarse, yet brighter than a starlit night. He gathered bundles of Aisultan's hair, before tucking it up into a false ponytail—nothing stopped silver from flowing back down through his fingers. He touched the unblemished ear cuffs, admiring how their beauty was little to nothing with amber-crowned eyes beneath—wavering. Aisultan's eyes spilled over with silent, searing tears.

But Eli had yet to ever see them waver.

"You love me," Eli announced, kissing the rising moles on his cheek.

"You'll never understand how much," Aisultan whispered, "not anymore."

"Then I suppose you'll never understand either," Eli laughed.

Cinnamon spun around him—puffing wisps of Aisultan's presence coating their embrace. Eli cupped his face, their noses almost touching, before sliding silver strands back to see Aisultan's face at full. Hands touching skin—arms encircled around waist and neck, as the parasol cast a muted shade atop their shoulders. Unbothered, the ice sung soft, sparkling hiccups, rejoicing. And Aisultan's lips pressed upon his, as tender as powdered snow. Eli's breaths grew faint—his chest tightened with tension and collapsed into a tight, metallic prick.

Not once did Eli's expression betray pain, only an infinite well of joy. His vision blurred. Eli found it no problem—Aisultan's eyes could be observed no more closely than as they kissed. Tender and sweet, addled with thick, draping devotion. Eli's legs weakened as if the world were plunging him down into its core. His fingers tangled tight through silver hair as he leaned against Aisultan. It mattered not. Aisultan would always hold him close and tight, never allowing him to fall.

Aisultan tried to speak, but Eli stole away his voice endlessly. He didn't want words anymore. Speaking took too much time away from them—there weren't words to express the delicate stream of emotion he hoped to convey to Aisultan.

Eli allowed the heavy weight to press down on his eyelids, unwilling to lose his sense of time to forsake a barely continued moment of consciousness. Aisultan's gentle caress remained. Hot and cold eased into blank, numbing silence. Aisultan's presence lingered; even as fragmented thoughts melted through Eli's emptying sensations.

Aisultan's clothes, rubbed against his own. Aisultan's fluffy tail, wrapped around his waist. Aisultan's lips, pressed against him. Aisultan, brushed away his stray hairs. Aisultan, traced cheeks by a finger.

Amber and silver, gentlest of touches, lilted speech.

King of the moon,

My moonlight—

Aisultan.