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[Oracle] begins to weave a small braid into their hair, and Ashmedai’s gaze focuses on it and their nimble fingers. They glance at [Oracle]’s face, examining their distracted expression, and imagines what they both look like from someone else’s perspective. Homely. Cozy. Allowing each other the closeness that they wouldn’t allow anyone else so easily. Briefly, their thoughts turn to a future in which they could share many such moments; a future in which such moments would become a wonderful everyday occurrence. They would become something that would belong to Ashmedai entirely, without doubt.

They would become something that they wouldn’t fear losing.

Ashmedai cuts these thoughts off and forces themselves to return to reality. They shouldn’t let their dreams drift so far. Then again, they’re only dreams—there’s no true harm if they lose touch with reality for a moment. What matters most is not losing sight of it for too long. Otherwise it would be hard to overcome the disappointment that would follow when those dreams were left unfulfilled.

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