The Iron Flower

“The Ironwood tree has an interesting life cycle. It spends one long year on the forest floor as a delicate, fragile flower. Easily broken. Easily destroyed.” His eyes meet mine. “But if it survives, it seeds to become a strong, deeply rooted tree.”

“I’ve been alone for so long,” he whispers, his lips a fraction from mine, his heat racing through me.

“Not anymore,” I whisper back.

“If I kiss you,” he says, his voice low and rough, “there is no way I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

“Then don’t let me go,”

There’s so much to say that has to remain unsaid.

But it’s time for both of us to walk away.

Any kind of happy future for us...it can never be. We can never be. Our relationship would be a danger to ourselves and everyone we love.

“Elloren,” he says, his voice breaking with intensity. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

There’s no future where we can be together. So, I need to seal up my heart and let it go cold.

“Elloren.”

There’s so much conveyed in that one, impassioned word and in his surprisingly palpable fire. Everything he won’t allow himself to say.

And in that one word, I can feel us already saying goodbye.

“There are a great number of things I’d like to do with you, Elloren, wandfasting being only one of them.”

I’ve let myself fall for him. And he’ll never want me.