Author's Note: Another 100-word drabble, this on the theme of windows. And yet another piece which displays my blasphemous sympathies for Eöl the Dark Elf. Horrors!
Walls
She stares up, down, away, anywhere. She, fragile bloom, wilts in the ever-dusk. He, Dark Elf, needs, covets her light; she shall not fade away!
"I could build you one."
Her glance darts toward him, uncomprehending, still flickering the residual brightness of her spirit. He presses on, desperately. "A window. You could see the sun. If you wish."
She looks at him then, almost-smiles for the first time, cautious; he leans into her light, basking in unaccustomed warmth. Only for a moment: she turns away too quickly, stares at the wall again, dreams of the sun.
He builds the window.