Arms intwined past bodies affected by years of torment and guilt.
Rue sighed, letting it all go temporarily in an attempt to just feel this moment here in Fakir's arms where a battle heavy, figuratively bullet lined, young man held her.
He was safe due to all those old similarities that connected them.
Fakir wasn't always the kindest though Rue wasn't always the kindest either.
No one- other than each other- seemed to see them for who they really were; two battered and bruised souls that needed each other to remind them of and soothe their scars.
Their scars weren't of a physical sense but rather of an emotional sort.
Rue leaned in finally, and Fakir leaned in too; their lips connected in a fiery spark that both soothed and maimed them.
Rue and Fakir could at least have this much amidst a harsh and judgemental world.
Hands moved to hug and keep the one that harmed their existence yet that person's edges fit perfectly in the other's.
Rue did not slacken her hold which would never appear to be too much for her one true love, and Fakir's grip was steady in its strength.
They loved each other for all of their flaw and little perfections; they at least had each other.