I'm Sorry, My Love

The rattling cough, it's enough to paint his expression, drawn and worried. Sides aching, chest too. Víðarr isn't a healer, but fuck, he knows his wife. He's never seen Tenshi this weak, he's never seen her struggle like this, and it's all he can do to hold tightly to her. To hold her tea cup, to try to hide the tremble from his paws while he does. The shadow and his light-- oh how he clings to her.

"I am needed right here, and that is the most important." His words are quiet, tender. Blood staining her pale handkerchief, Víðarr can smell it before she manages to tuck it away. Pressing a kiss to Tenshi's temple, stroking her back, every reverence he can bestow on her.

"I love you." The words are soft, pressed against Tenshi's cheek. Curled around her, holding as tightly as he feels he comfortably can. He isn't going anywhere, he isn't letting go, and she's going to be fine. She has to be.

"Víðarr"