GleefulGrimshade
Member
- Nov 21, 2025
- 10
They chose each other without illusions. Not to be saved, but not to lie. Kleist knew the world would never grant him respite; Henriette knew her body had already decided. Between them, no promises, only agreement. They walk toward the lake like people going to meet something they have known for a long time. No haste, no scene. They speak little, because unnecessary words belong to those who are still hoping. Love, here, is not a future: it is the perfect coincidence of two fatigues. At Wannsee they do not seek death, but a form of quiet that life had denied. They do not flee together: they recognize each other completely.
