"I saw someone who looked as lonely as I felt. As if all those years of climbing, all those years of searching—they'd led me to the one person in the universe who understood. Who had been just as alone as I was, just as unseen, just as desperate for someone to finally, finally look."
"So no, I don't know why I came. I don't know why I kept coming. I don't know why, out of all the mortals who have ever lived, I'm the one who can see you. But I do. I see you. And I'm not going anywhere."
The admission hung in the air, raw and embarrassing and absolutely true.
"I know what it's like to be alone," I continued, my voice dropping. "My mother—she's been lost to me for years. The madness took her before I was old enough to really know her. My father died slowly, wasting away in that bed while I watched. The villagers look at me like I'm either cursed or pitiful, and honestly, I'm not sure which is worse. I've been surrounded by people my whole life, and I've never felt like I belonged anywhere."
I blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall.
"But you—it seems you've been alone for a long time. Not just alone in this place, but alone in the universe. No one knowing who you really are. No one to talk to about the things you've seen, the things you've done. No one to just... be with." I shook my head. "I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear the thought of you up here, day after day, year after year, with nothing but the wind for company."
I finally met his eyes again, defiant despite the tears threatening to spill.
"So yes, I climbed a mountain. Yes, I probably look insane. Yes, I just accused a divine being of potentially being a beauty-stealing vampire in my head—" I winced. "You definitely heard that, didn't you?"
The corner of his mouth twitched.
"But I don't care. Because you were alone. And I couldn't let you be alone anymore. That's why."
The silence stretched between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was full—full of something I couldn't name, something that made my heart beat faster and my skin tingle where his gaze rested.
He reached out, slowly, as if giving me time to flee, and touched my cheek with fingers that should have been cold but were warm instead. Warm like sunlight. Warm like home.
"No one has seen me in a millennia," he murmured. "No one has wanted to see me. The mortals come for healing, for blessings, for the comfort of a myth. But you..." His thumb traced the line of my cheekbone, feather-light. "You came for me."
I leaned into his touch, unable to help myself. "Always."
He closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he opened them, they held something I hadn't seen before—hope, fragile and new, like the first green shoot after a long winter.
Then, without warning, that hope flickered into something else. Something that looked almost like amusement.