He let the silence linger.
“I’d spent most of my life surrounded by arrogant, joyless men who called themselves healers. That…was the first time I’d seen tears that were pure. That were noble. Then you said you’d heard my voice. You told me I was capable of weaving miracles. That you respected me. But no. I was the one who stood in awe. I found myself wondering—had I ever tried so hard to heal someone? Had I ever wanted it that badly?”
Kurt reached out and took her hand in his.
“It was always a joy speaking with you. Most people don’t bother to respond when I talk. Or if they do, it’s to agree and move on. That’s why I stopped trying outside of work. But you… You always had something to say back. You challenged me. Laughed at me. Argued with me. You never looked away. I watched your face change with every word, and before I knew it, I wanted more. More of you.”
Kurt’s gaze softened as if recalling some long-past exchange, though which one, even he might not have known.
“I was…shaken when I tried to heal your skin and failed. I couldn’t believe that something so simple, so small, could be beyond me. It stung all the more when you smiled through it. Through the tears. That was the first time I truly felt what it means to want to heal someone and be unable to.”
His grip on her hand tightened slightly.
“I finally understood. That’s the pain the others carry. That’s what I never saw.”
He exhaled slowly, eyes dimming with memory.
“When I feared you’d died…I don’t know what happened. My heart—” He paused. “It just…sunk. And when I learned you were alive, it was as though something inside me eased that I hadn’t even known was taut. Both hit me harder than I thought they should.”
He looked away then, somewhere far beyond the room.
“And again, after the eastern expedition, when you healed me. I felt it through the magic. Not just your spell but your intent. Your kindness. I’d never known that a healer’s heart could pass through their hands like that.”
He turned back to her, more earnest now.
“I used to think kindness was worthless. That it couldn’t heal wounds. Couldn’t bring the dead back. And watching grieving families cry beside the dying…I saw it as a hindrance. But you—”
His hand rose, brushing gently against her cheek. His voice softened.
“You showed me the truth. That kindness does heal. From the inside. That heart heals hearts. That I still have one. One that can grieve. One that can rejoice. And I learned that here, from you.”
He drew her gently into his arms, his voice warm at her ear.
“You have my everlasting respect and love, Ms. Sophie. You are my teacher in all things human.”
Sophie felt the warmth of the man she loved. She returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around him. Tears began spilling down her cheeks.
“Why are you crying?” Kurt asked.
“Because you are such a pitiable, lovable creature,” Sophie replied.
“Yes, I’m pitiable. Pathetic, aren’t I?”
“No. You went to such lengths to try and understand.”
He pulled back, his eyes searching hers in quiet confusion. Sophie reached up and cupped his face, her thumbs brushing gently over his cheeks.
She looked at him—the shape of the man he was. This awkward, earnest, stubborn man. And all she felt was love.
That his eyes, dark as they were, could still look at the world without bitterness. That they hadn’t clouded over from all he’d seen, all he’d borne… The tears came faster.
That, she thought, was the greatest gift she could have ever received.
“Because that’s just the key, isn’t it?” she said, her voice trembling. “You’ve always tried to understand. What a person is. What a heart is. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been. To not grasp things most people just seem to know. Things said between the lines, things that never had to be explained. You were afraid, weren’t you? You hated it, didn’t you? Speaking your truth—only to be met with silence. With rejection. With coldness.”
She blinked, her hands still gently holding his face.
“And yet, you never gave up. You kept reaching out. You kept healing. Even in a world that felt foreign to you, you didn’t grow bitter. You didn’t turn cruel. You didn’t blame others for not understanding you. You blamed yourself for not understanding them.”
Her hands, now soft and smooth, rested gently on his face, radiating all the warmth she could give.
“But make no mistake, I wasn’t the reason you came to understand. That was you. Your perseverance. Your refusal to give up on connection. You kept extending your hand again and again. And again and again, it was swatted away. But still, you never stopped reaching. Just as no two faces are the same, no two hearts are tempered in quite the same way. And just as the world shuns what looks unfamiliar, it turns from what feels unfamiliar too.”
Her hand drifted down from her cheek to his chest.
“What lies here, Kurt…must have been forged to endure. Hardened—not from cruelty, but necessity, so that when others’ hearts wavered, yours would not. So that in the most harrowing moments, you alone could remain calm. You were never meant to feel the world the way everyone else did. You were meant to hold it together. For someone given that burden…it was never softness you needed here. It was a particular kind of strength. A necessary hardness.”
She leaned in, resting her cheek against him, her hand drawing slow, quiet circles.
“It doesn’t make you evil, it doesn’t make you deserving of hatred, but it does make you…different. Hard things, when they move openly among soft things, will inevitably cause harm. It’s nature. It’s regrettable—but it is something we can change.
“So, let’s learn together. We’ll find a way for you to be among others without hurting them. You can trust me—I won’t break. Whatever you say, whatever you show me, it won’t scare me. Just like you saw past my appearance and never flinched at what others feared, I’m not afraid of what’s inside you. You know why that is? Because I love you, Kurt.”
Beautiful, transparent tears soaked their way into Kurt’s breast.
“We’ll talk. So much more than we have until now. We’ll learn, we’ll practice, and I have no doubt—wonderful things will keep happening. Again and again. More people will come to understand you, the real you. Without fear or contempt. And I truly believe the world will begin to open up. To become joyful, to become fun, just like the world you saw your parents in.
“So please, don’t be afraid of offending me. If something hurts, I’ll say so. I won’t hide it. I won’t stay silent and slowly drift away. You can count on me to tell you exactly where things went wrong. I promise you that.”
She lifted her face with an air of finality and gave Kurt a warm, reassuring smile.
But—she then looked away, burying her face in his chest so she might preserve his dignity.
“I love you,” she heard him whisper.
“I love you, too,” she replied.
“Marry me?”
“That’s the plan.”
Kurt gently wiped her tears and ran his fingers through her hair. Sophie looked up, meeting those obsidian-black eyes—now shimmering, just slightly—with something unspoken.
And at that distance, with no more words to say, she closed her eyes.
On the salon floor, their shadows stretched across the wood, merging slowly into one.