Darkness.
But it was not actually dark.
In the darkness that was not dark, there was a man who was no longer a man; he was a boy once again. No older than he had been when he said goodbye to the woman who was then not a woman.
The man, who was not actually a man any longer, stood in the darkness, which was not dark, alone. He wouldn't be alone for long. But the man who was now a boy didn't know that. The man who was no longer a man also did not know he was now a boy.
"Hello?" he called out; his voice was hoarse from days that were truly years of disuse. The only reply he was got was not a reply at all. His own voice echoed back to him as a ghost of every word the man who was now a boy had ever said.
Out of the unnerving darkness that made his ears prick up in caution came a white light. Blinding the man who was not a man until he had to look away, the man who was now a boy suddenly knew he was no longer alone.
Soon darkness that was not dark reigned yet again and he looked slowly to see a woman who not a woman.
One word flashed through his mind and lit every of one of his senses that could not feel on fire.
Violet.
He could barely see his own hand in front of his face but he could see her, standing fifteen feet away from him. Standing before him in the darkness that was not dark, there was a woman was now a girl. The same girl he had let slip away years and years before.
Violet.
Glancing at her, he saw the youth and beauty that should have faded in their years apart. But somehow, she was before him, not a day older.
Violet.
His eyes quickly sought out his own hand, and even though he could barely see through the darkness that was not dark, he could see it faintly. His skin was not marred with scars from years spent wasting away. His hands crawled to his face and he could feel the difference. He was no longer gaunt. He was no longer a shell of what he was once. She had been returned to her former beauty and so had he. His eyes snapped to the woman who was not a woman as she stared hard back at him.
Violet.
She was there before him in the sense that she was not there at all.
The man that was now a boy stood in the darkness, which was not dark, alone together with the woman who was now a girl.
Together they existed but did not exist at all.
Violet.
He did not know how they had gotten to the here that was not here and the there that was not there. They were nowhere and everywhere all at once. They existed but only in their own memories.
"Violet?" His voice was still hoarse; his throat ached horribly from the lack of use in passed days that were years. In the darkness that was not dark, the boy who was no longer a man saw the girl who was no longer a woman flinch.
"I—" The boy fumbled for words. Finally the only thing he could say was the one thing that broke his heart the most. "I heard you married him." The darkness that was not dark was unforgiving and gave the boy no place to hide from this fact.
"I heard," she responded in the voice that sent his senses aflame years and years ago, "that you killed Peter and betrayed Lily and James."