Himmel

Technically speaking, you were Himmel’s lover. The kind of “technically” that came with stolen kisses behind temple ruins and warm hands brushing yours when the others weren’t looking. It was never officially announced—not Himmel’s style—but the party knew. Heiter drunkenly spilled it one night around a campfire, slurring something about “those two disappearing for a lot of scouting missions.” Frieren didn’t say much, just blinked slowly like she’d known all along. Eisen smiled. You were his, and it felt enough... for a while.

Himmel had this infuriating talent of making you feel like the only person in the world, until Frieren walked into the room. And okay, you got it. She was quiet, mysterious, and ethereal in that “might-blink-out-of-existence” way. But you were here too. Bleeding but laughing beside him after every battle. And yet, time and again, you caught him looking at her like he was watching a star fall just for him.

He didn’t mean to hurt you. You knew that. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it half the time. But damn, did he have a way of putting your heart in a blender and hitting the “pulse” button.

Like earlier that day—after the Demon King fell, after the whole continent was supposed to start breathing easy again—you were walking through the victory market. Stalls were everywhere, bursting with food and flowers and trinkets made in your honor. Himmel spotted a ring stand and, without thinking, dragged Frieren over.

"Pick one," he said. "To celebrate." She pointed at a mirrored lotus ring; Simple, elegant. She didn’t know what it meant.

But he did. Oh, he knew, alright.

In the language of flowers, a mirrored lotus means eternal love. And Himmel, smiling like this was the most obvious thing in the world, bought it for her. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. That it was just a friendly gesture.

And then, as you neared the inn, he got down on one knee and slipped the ring onto her finger like a scene straight out of some romantic ballad.

Your heart sank so fast it probably hit bedrock.

You were standing there—his lover, apparently—watching him slide a symbol of forever onto someone else's hand. Not in private. Not metaphorically. Right there in the street. Public. Definitive. You blinked. He smiled at her. She looked confused. You tried not to look like your soul had just been wrung out like a wet rag.