Vivian swung his sword with fluid precision, each motion like a dance upon the training ground Charlotte had specially requested when he enrolled at the academy.
Sweat clung to his skin, his training gear soaked through, yet he didn't seem to notice.
His world, in that moment, was the blade's arc and the rhythm of his breath.
From the platform nearby, Charlotte watched him, her chin resting on her hands, cheeks gently cupped as a fond smile curved her lips.
It had been a week since they returned, back through time itself, after surviving the hell that had nearly broken them.
In those seven days, they'd slowly steadied their hearts, letting the echoes of that torment fade.
To Charlotte, the whole thing felt like a dream, she had never imagined she would meet her Vivian again.
Yet fate, cruel as it was, carried the strange gift of unpredictability, granting them a mysterious chance at life once more.
