Beyond Impulse

The room was wrapped in half-light, lit only by a solitary candle. The timid flame danced, casting shadows that seemed to move on their own across the stone walls. Outside, the night wind brushed the windows as if it wanted to slip in and listen.

Blair sat on the edge of the bed, white hair falling like a curtain over her shoulders. Her hands covered her face. The tremor in her shoulders said everything.

Asori stood in the doorway for a few seconds, ready to retreat—then remembered Master Corbin’s words. Holding the honeyed bread as if cradling something fragile, he tried again, stepping toward the person who, without his noticing, had already become special to him.

He drew a deep breath, closed the door behind him, and took a step. The floor creaked softly.
—Blair… —his voice was low, uncertain.

She didn’t answer. Her shoulders shook with a stifled sob.

Asori came a little closer.
—I brought bread… —he said awkwardly, lifting the bundle, trying again—. I thought…

Blair’s head snapped up. Her red eyes brimmed with tears. The look she gave him pierced deeper than any sword.
—Why? —her voice was a thin, broken thread—. Why did you speak to me like that at supper?

Asori swallowed.
—I didn’t—

—You don’t understand! —Blair cried, surging to her feet—. You don’t understand how hard it is to trust someone!

She stepped from the bed toward him, face flushed with anger and grief.
—Do you know what I remember of my parents? —her voice shook, but she didn’t stop—. I saw them only in death. In the library. The floor slick with blood, books scattered… and me, alone, standing there, not understanding why I lived and they didn’t.

Asori lowered his head. Through the Sweet Kiss, Blair’s pain seeped into his chest as if he’d lived it himself.

—Since then —she went on, tears cascading—, everyone expects me to be strong, to smile, to act like a princess… even if half the world thinks I’m dead, even if they say my aunt “adopted” me like a shadow. Always expecting something from me!

She covered her face with both hands, sobbing.
—And still, I trusted you, Asori. I dared to joke, to talk, to bring you bread, to bother you… because I thought you might be different. But today… you pushed me away. It felt like you told me I wasn’t worth it.

Asori crushed the bread bundle nearly flat.
—That wasn’t—

—Yes it was! —Blair shouted, tears streaming—. Maybe I pushed too hard. But you… you were selfish.

Heat flared in Asori’s chest—not at Blair, at himself.
—And what did you expect from me?! —he burst out, stepping forward—. That I’d walk into a palace of gold and polite lies and suddenly know how to exist?

Blair stared, startled by his tone.

—I don’t fit here —Asori said, voice shaking with frustration—. I’ve never belonged anywhere. And when you looked at me at that table, with all those eyes judging, all I wanted was to run. Is that selfish? Maybe. But it’s all I know how to do: survive.

Blair watched him in silence, tears still falling.

—I don’t want to be cruel to you, Blair —he added, softer—. But I… I don’t know how to accept help.

Blair pressed her lips together, trembling.
—Then learn —she whispered—. Because I… I can’t bear to trust someone only to be dropped again.

The Sweet Kiss burned hot, their emotions knotted together. Blair clutched her chest, gasping.
—I feel your anger. Your fear. Your contempt for everything. And it hurts! —she cried—. It hurts because I’m carrying it inside me!

Asori took a step, startled.
—Blair…

—And yes! I regretted kissing you! —she blurted, rage and tears colliding—. For a moment, I did. But… something pushed me to do it. I don’t know if it was fate, fear, or simple desperation. I just knew I had to save you. And I did.

She dropped to her knees, covering her face. Asori watched, heart hammering.

He knelt in front of her.
—I have something I never said.

Blair lifted her head; her red eyes shone.

—When I was a kid… my parents came home wounded. Bleeding. They could barely speak. I ran to the village, begged for help, screamed until my throat tore. No one came.

Silence fell heavy. Blair’s lips parted, but no sound came.

—I watched them die in our doorway. —Asori’s fists tightened, dark eyes bright with pain—. That day I learned asking for help was useless. And I swore I wouldn’t do it again.

Blair sobbed, tears starting anew.

—That’s why I’m like this —Asori went on—. Because if no one helped me then… why should I help anyone now?

Another sob broke from Blair, but her gaze held more tenderness than anger.

—But you… —Asori’s voice dropped—. You saved me. And that changed something, even if I don’t know what yet.

The bundle slipped from his hand. A smear of honey spread on the floor. Blair stepped back and her heel skidded.
—Ah!

Asori caught her in midair. They both tumbled onto the rug, their faces stopping just inches apart, their lips almost touching. Their hearts pounded so fiercely it seemed to echo through the entire room. Each felt the other’s breath, warm and unsteady. For that fleeting instant, the world itself stood still, holding only the intimacy between them. Blair’s eyes fell to Asori’s lips, and his gaze fixed helplessly on the silver-hair princess soft and delicated lips.

Blair closed her eyes for a moment, as if expecting the instant to end inevitably in a kiss. Trembling, Asori leaned closer… but stopped.

He shut his eyes and pushed himself up abruptly, face flushed. He stood first and offered his hand.
—I’m sorry —he said, sincerely—. Truly, I know I’m difficult. I know I’m rude. But even do we’ve barely met… I’ve grown fond of you.

Blair looked at him, lips trembling.

—I don’t know if it’s the Sweet Kiss… or if it’s ours. But I want something beyond that ability. Something real.

She took his hand. They rose together.
—Tie —Blair said, with a faint smile.

—Tie —Asori echoed.

Asori sighed.
—I still don’t care about your war. But I won’t make your saving my life a waste. I’ll get stronger—if only to stand when Zeknier comes.

Blair smiled through tears.
—Idiot…

Out in the corridor, Eryndor stood with eyes closed, his robe stirring in the breeze.
—It wasn’t chance —he murmured—. The kiss, the meeting, the bond… it was all in the wind.

He smiled and slipped away, unseen.

Blair watched Asori leave, the door closing softly behind him. She raised a hand to her lips, remembering the kiss, the almost-kiss, and the promise.
—I want you to be… my first true friend —she whispered.

Heat rose to her cheeks.
—Friend —she repeated, trying to convince herself. But the smile that escaped her spoke of something more.

The candle flickered before going out, and both went to sleep with the same thought circling back: that moment when they almost took one step further in the bond they were forging.