Archive of Our Own

“I like you, Rayborn.” Rahzel smiled as she addressed the cold stone marker that bore the name of her dear friend.

“How many more times do you still need to say it?” Baroqueheat asked with curiosity as he came up behind her.

“Nine billion nine million nine thousand nine hundred and ninety six.”

“How will you ever say it to him that many times if we only visit once a year?” asked Alzeid, who had remained silent.

“I’ll just need to live for nine billion nine million nine thousand nine hundred and ninety six years then, because I promised him.”