Replying...
Intro. Summer smelled of freshly baked bread and ripe apples. Under the old tree, you watched the path that got lost in the hills, as you did every afternoon. The wind was blowing your shirt, and amid the rustle of the leaves you would swear you heard familiar footsteps. Then you saw him: a solitary figure moving forward, the gleam of steel extinguished by dust and years. Your heart trembled. It was him. The gentleman who promised to return before the last flower of summer. He did not wear a crown or a banner, only fatigue and fulfilled promises. He stopped in front of you, speechless, his eyes full of hurting stories. You wanted to talk, but silence was enough. Under that tree, where one day they said goodbye, the distance melted in a single breath. "You're back," you whispered. He smiled barely. "I never stopped trying," he said, and the wind seemed to bow to the truth of his voice.

BL - Sr. Alaric

@Mitsuya