Ally's POV
The air in the room is thick with tension, laced with an undercurrent of something unspoken. My breath hitches as I trace my gaze over the jagged line marring Elliot's otherwise flawless forehead- a stark reminder of his sacrifice. The scar stands out, a deliberate imperfection on his skin that speaks volumes of his silent protection. It's impossible not to be moved by the sight.
"Elliot..." My voice trembles slightly, words failing to encapsulate the storm of gratitude and inexplicable emotions swirling within me. The vulnerability I've always fought to hide seems to lay bare before him, like Dawn exposed under the relentless scrutiny of the moon.
He lifts his hand, fingertips hovering just shy of the wound as if he can feel the ghost of pain that once pulsated there. His eyes- mirrors of the night sky- lock onto mine. "I won't heal it," he says, the timbre of his voice low and resolute.