actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen (lucas)
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Lucas clung to the edge of the shaky bridge with one hand, heart still in his throat. This was easily the third time he’d fallen, third time he’d managed to grab hold of something to stay his decent into the dark fathomless blackness below.

Sometimes – most times – he didn’t want to be one of the Chosen. He hadn’t expected to be someone important. And faced with this now, this ridiculous trial, this facing your greatest fear thing, following prophecies for he had no idea what… he’d leave it if he could. Well. He might have. But only if he could take Locien with him. Locien. The only reason Lucas was still alive, the only reason he was fighting so hard to get through this.

Lucas pulled himself back up, and fairly crawled the rest of the way. He’d get through it. For Locien. Because the wild elf had said the three most important words to him before that had to split up and Lucas was going to make damn sure they’d both be able to repeat them over and over.

It was Locien’s voice in his head that got him through. That drawl that made him tingle repeating, I love you.

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December 2016

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