A Slender Figure in the Snow

Those violet eyes looked straight at him, filled with nothing but desolation. He heard her voice, still as it had always been, cold as fine snow: "I'm doing just fine without you. Better... much better."

After a long pause, he murmured a soft "Mm," then turned his face away.

Snow drifted through the capital like falling silk. Beyond the window, hidden behind its blue curtains, stood a withered plum tree, its branches like bones. He had planted it for the person before him. He still remembered what she had said, the flowers she loved, and... every trace of the love they had shared.

But...

"You should go. Don't come back." He raised his head and looked at her quietly. The candle flickered, casting shifting light and shadow across his face.

He simply could no longer promise her forever.