My Hand Always To Your Heart PV Simon Kincaid

roses smoldering in flames, boy holding a girl, AngelFyre
Days of Pure Joy @Simon Kincaid

10 August 2026

AngelFyre reveled in the way the fire sounded and smelled on her land. It did not produce the staccato pops of store bought wood, but rather the softer, resin rich crack of Scots pine. The pine always cracked a little sharper than birch, exhaling a swarm of firefly like embers to drift into the darkness around them. Tonight they had both pine and birch in the ring of stones she and Simon had built earlier, and the smoky aroma was intoxicating.

A single, fallen piece of rowan rested near the edge of the flames. Though she would never cut rowan, largely because Grandma Ruth had taught her that some trees were meant to be left alone, AngelFyre knew Scottish lore felt a fallen rowan branch was different. Its presence felt like an offering… a gift. She leaned over to grasp it and tossed it into the fire, watching, slightly mesmerized, as the flames danced around it, curling its leaves into ashen nothingness.

Earlier, when they had been gathering wood, Simon had paused beside the walnut tree near an ancient stone ruin her father reckoned dated back to the 1500s. Her father was not present now. Nor had he been present today, or during the two days prior. In fact, no one was present on this end of summer camping trip but she and her best fellow. They had taken the entire week for themselves, tucked away from the estate's manor and from every familiar voice on it. The quiet had become its own kind of sanctuary… a rare stretch of time where they could simply exist together for days on end without interruption from another living soul.

Simon had probably gotten more than his fill of the history of the ruins dotted around the estate, but he took it all in as he did with anything she shared with him… with great attention and even greater patience.

Even so, AngelFyre did not miss him running his fingers along the bark with a quiet, uncertain expression she recognized. Simon had said nothing about his walnut wand lately, other than to have expressed his joy on finally landing on a name for it many months back. She had seen the way he regarded the walnut tree, as though its wood had chosen him for reasons he still did not understand. She had not commented. She had simply watched him, loving the soft perplexion in his curious eyes.

The night above them was the kind East Lothian offered without effort… deep, clear, and tinged with the faint salt of the North Sea drifting inland from Dunbar’s coast. The pines around the clearing moved gently in the breeze, their needles whispering in a way she had always found comforting. The earth smelled cool and familiar beneath them, softened by moss and old leaves.

As she leaned back away from the fire, the steady rise and fall of Simon’s breathing pressed against her thighs. He was not asleep… she knew his breathing when he slept… but he was settled and content in the way he only ever seemed to be when the world finally stopped demanding things of him. Small shifts of his head brushed against her whenever she turned a page.

Her favorite book lay open in her hand, its spine softened from years of reading and rereading. Time was the real gift here. In all of their years together, this was the first time they had ever been able to be completely alone for a week, so she relished this time of sharing more of themselves with each other through the reading of their favorite books to one another. AngelFyre read aloud confidently because she knew she was expressive in her delivery… but mostly because she knew Simon loved the sound of her voice when she was focused on nothing except the words in front of her.

Every so often he looked up… not at the stars, but at her mouth and at the way she breathed and shaped the words into life amidst the firelit darkness cloaking them. She soldiered on in her reading and did not react to his focused attention externally. She liked it too much.

When she reached the line she always paused on… “Thus began our longest journey together.”…AngelFyre let the silence settle. She never knew why that sentence felt important, only that it did. It was a great line and probably caused many to pause and feel the heartbreak in it, but it felt something more than that to her.

The fire hissed softly and birthed more embers. Simon’s fingers curled lightly against her knee.

AngelFyre closed the book gently, smoothing the cover with her palm. “Do you remember, my dove,” she asked, brushing a bit of pine ash from his hair, “on our second anniversary, when I presented you with the clan Kincaid tartan and asked if you would do me the honor of wearing a kilt on our wedding day?”

Her voice had softened and two fingers were now playing tenderly through his hair.

Simon turned his head, pressing his face into her thigh as he nodded, murmuring a somewhat muffled “Mhm,” as his lips delivered feather light kisses upon her jeans.

“I did not tell you at the time,” she continued, leaning down just enough so that her hair brushed his cheek, tickling him just barely enough to reward her with one of his glorious smiles. The struggle to keep the gentle tease from her voice as she continued was mighty… “…but my mind immediately created what I think is my best pun ever.”

He rapidly covered his face with both hands and began to shake his head back and forth in the cradle of her lap, teasing her now as he lifted his hands up to make a cross with two fingers as if to fend her off. “AngelFyre… stop. If this pun is about to impugn my sexy legs with more slander of supposed bow leggedness, I’m going to rescind my offer of wearing said kilt on our wedding day.”

She smiled directly down into his beautiful amber eyes, made a little less amber by the dilation of his pupils. “Oh stop yourself, Mr. Man,” she chuckled as she playfully smacked his fingers away. “You and I both know you would never deny me such a request, especially after you asked me to a school ball while you were wearing nary a stitch of clothing.”

He grinned in a very self satisfied way at that particular mention, but did ultimately confess, “Well, you do have me there, love. What's the pun? And you know I love your puns.”

“And well you should. I could be famous for them one day, donchaknow,” she stated proudly while puffing her chest out like a cartoon character.

A spark of mischief was dancing in her eyes, and it was a look Simon knew all too well.

“Are you ready? Here it comes. Drum roll please.” To her utter delight, he sat up and grabbed two slender sticks and began a rapid drum roll on the stones of the fire ring, looking to her with great anticipation.

She cleared her throat and chirped gleefully,“To Kilt a Balking Bird.”

Her laughter then echoed around them with great abandon. AngelFyre could not help herself. She was almost too amused by her own wit to notice Simon laughing along with her, but his laughter ended with a long groan, shaking his head once again as one hand reached over to rub his strained rib cage. His smile, however… oh that smile of his continued to grow wider by the millisecond until he calmed down and it transformed into something altogether more sultry and inviting.

AngelFyre’s laugh quieted along with Simon’s and caught in her throat when she focused on the look in his eyes… piercing, enticing… the kind of look he reserved only for her.

The fire crackled. The salt wind moved through the pines. And as Simon’s hand reached behind her neck, drawing her lips ever closer to his, AngelFyre knew she was being welcomed home.

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Reducio
OOC: Simon and AngelFyre have longstanding permission to godmod one another's characters.

@Colin McCoire

My Hand Always To Your Heart PV Simon Kincaid
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The touch of her lips against his electrified through him as it always did and somehow at the same time sent a course of steadiness through him. She always had been able to make his heart race while simultaneously making the rest of the world fall away. She had done so upon their first meeting in the Hufflepuff Common Room when one conversation lasted what seemed forever; she had done so on their second meeting in the Rehearsal Room where his hand brushed against hers as they performed a duet of Heart and Soul on the piano; and she had done so every moment since.

This weekend alone with her had been something rare, something sacred. No classes demanded their attention and no demanding coursework waited to be finished. There were no late nights needed spent studying in the library or common room. There was no broom racing practice or any of the other endless responsibilities that came at Hogwarts.

Nor were there any internships this past week to complete or sanctuaries to assist with. No other obligations were there to pull them in a dozen different directions. And while Simon and AngelFyre both loved their families deeply, it was nice to have no outside distractions, no expectations, no deadlines. It was simply Simon and AngelFyre.

This was a time they were lucky to find, where they could just exist together without worrying about what came next. Simon wanted to memorize every piece of the moment in the warmth of her against him. His hand remained tangled gently in her hair, that beautiful long hair that had been teasing him as she read. For many long moments the two grew lost in their kiss.

Simon pulled away from the kiss slowly, resting his forehead against hers. The embers of the fire continued to pop around them and when the wind carried one of them toward her, he quickly cast it away. He brought his hand from her hair now, down the length of her arm until his hand found her own and he lifted it to his lips to gently kiss the back of it and turned her hand gently to see the claddagh ring she wore daily, the promise ring that he also had one of and wore faithfully.

Simon kissed her thumb. "You know what I remember most about that day? - The day you showed me the kilt in the shop window?" He then smiled widely. "It was that I realized you were already imagining me beside you." He then kissed the knuckle of her pointer finger, then her middle finger, and finally landed at the heart held by two hands topped with a crown of the traditional Irish ring.

"I'm glad we got to explore more about my clan traditions together and discover more about my history because it's not just my family's history, is it? We were learning more about us and the future we're building together. The family we'll have someday."

And as he was approaching his last year at Hogwarts, their future together was very much on his mind. They would be together one more year at Hogwarts and then he'd graduate and she'd have one more year left. Surely there would be some way to stay close to her in such a situation - he would find a way.

"But you know, if you think you're the only one who's spent time imagining our wedding, you're very much mistaken, Miss McCubbin. I've picked up a few ideas of my own along the way," he said and his eyes found hers. "In fact, there is something already planned. Something extraordinarily special just for you. But that is all the information you get. You'll have to wait until our wedding day to find out what it is, future wife of mine."

Simon wondered if she would try and ask but he wasn't even ready to give a clue. He wanted such a detail of their wedding day to come as a complete surprise. Simon kissed her ring gently and then let his gently tap against hers as he interlaced their fingers together.

Leaves rustled from above, perhaps from an owl taking flight or a squirrel scurrying from one place to another. Simon glanced up at the treetops above them. "I noticed there were a lot of walnut trees here," he said and his eyes fell upon one of such.

It felt like the perfect time to give her the small pendant he had been keeping tucked safely in his pocket. "Did you know that walnut trees symbolize strength, protection, and deep roots?" He asked and pulled out a necklace he had made during their camping trip and held it out for her to see. It had been carved from a fallen piece of walnut wood he had found while they were gathering firewood during their first few days there. It was now carved into a simple wooden cross and polished smooth from hours of work, and a tiny heart was carved into the center. Simon had used a thin cord of rope to turn it into something she could wear.

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"I made this while we were here,"
he said to her as his thumb brushed over the carved heart. "One night while you were asleep by the fire. I wanted to make something for you that would remind you that you are loved. I wanted you to have something that carried strength when you need it, protection when you need it, and be a reminder that there is someone who will always stand beside you."

He sat up slowly, positioning himself now so he could gently brush her hair over her shoulder and his fingertips gently teased through her hair as he so instinctively often did. It caused him to smile. "The strong roots symbolism my favorite part," he explained. "They grow, taking patience and time and care, but once they're there they hold strong."

Simon slipped the necklace around her carefully and before letting go, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her neck, lingering for just a moment before brushing her hair back into place. "And that is what I want for us," he continued. "Something strong. Something that keeps going. If there's one thing I am certain of, it is that I would rather face a thousand difficult days with you than one easy day without you."

"Forever and always, my love."

Be kind to one another. (*iNPC is Miles Thatcher)

My Hand Always To Your Heart PV Simon Kincaid
roses smoldering in flames, boy holding a girl, AngelFyre
Halcyon Daze with @Simon Kincaid

10 August 2026

AngelFyre did not speak at first. She could not. The kiss on her neck, the weight of the walnut cross resting against her skin, the way his fingers had lingered at the clasp as though sealing a promise… it all struck her with a quiet, devastating tenderness. She lifted her hand to the pendant, brushing her thumb over the tiny carved heart, and felt the warmth of the wood as though it had been waiting for her.

“Simon….” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she raised it, admiring it from every angle.“You carved this just the last couple of days? With your own hands? Love, it is beautiful,” and her pride in him and her amazement that he would think to do such a thing rocked her to her core.

She looked up at him, and the amber in his eyes had turned molten in the fire’s glow.

“Strength. Protection. Deep roots.” She repeated the words slowly, savoring them.“I love that. And I love you, Simon Ezra Kincaid. Thank you for this.” Her fingers curled around the pendant, holding it gently to her sternum “This feels as though you placed your heart right here,” she murmured “so I could keep it safe. And I will.”

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his, mirroring the gesture he had given her moments before. “And you are right,” she whispered “We are building something. Something with roots. Something that will stand the test of time.”

Her breath caught and trembled with the weight of truth and excitement. “I have imagined our wedding too, my love, but it will be only a single day of our lives. Everything about it will pale in comparison to the moment we are declared husband and wife. The wedding will be beautiful, of that I have no doubt, but our union Simon? Our marriage? Oh, that is going to be glorious!”

Her hand found his cheek, and her thumb idly brushed the strong line of his jaw. She kissed him… slowly, reverently… a kiss that carried the quiet certainty of a future together. When she pulled back, her blue eyes were slicked with moisture, but her voice was steady.

“Forever and always, my love,” she echoed, her fingers tightening around his with one hand while her other still touched the walnut cross lightly, feeling the warmth of the wood against her skin.

Simon rose. He brushed a kiss to her temple, a soft and grounding gesture, before stepping halfway around the fire ring toward the small pile of birch and pine they had gathered earlier.

The forest around them had settled into its nighttime rhythm. An old branch creaked somewhere deeper in the woods while the faint flutter of a bat’s wings thwapped through the clearing for a moment before fading into the dark. She smiled at the soft crush of leaves beneath Simon’s boots as he moved away from her.

He knelt to place a few pieces of wood onto the fire, and the glow lit the architecture of his jaw line perfectly. She had always said it was the one… and only… feature she could recognize of Adrian in him. The sight made AngelFyre shiver as a flicker of raw memory passed through her. She remembered the danger she had once seen in Adrian’s eyes and the cold, calculating precision that had lived within them.

But this was Simon. Her Simon, and not Adrian’s. The shiver faded.

Simon reached for another piece of wood.

And then he froze.

His hand hovered above the birch. His shoulders stiffened. He lifted his head slightly and flared his nostrils as he appeared to draw in the scents swirling around them, all of which she was blissfully unaware.

His focus was clearly on the woods behind her and to her right.

Something was going on there, but it was nothing she could detect. Even if he did not appear to understand exactly what his cause for concern was in this moment, AngelFyre could see that he was concerned. Whatever it was, it had yanked him out of the quiet, peace time Defcon 5 moments they had been sharing and into the higher readiness posture of Defcon 4.

AngelFyre pushed up onto her knees, her brows drawing together as she turned toward him. “Simon?” she questioned softly, her voice cautious as she also scanned the tree line. He did not answer. His attention stayed fixed on the dark stretch of woods beyond the clearing, his posture tightening as he listened.

A soft sound drifted from that direction. The steady, familiar padding of paws moving through underbrush.

Hillary appeared, slipping out of the shadows with her tail wagging upon seeing each of them, and then her nose went low to the ground as she sniffed her way to the fire. She moved more slowly now than she had in her younger years, but she still carried the easy confidence of a dog that had grown up on this land, weaving between stones and around tree trunks as though they were familiar landmarks… because they were.

AngelFyre’s shoulders eased and a smile returned to her face.“Hillary,” she cooed, warmth rising in her voice.“Off chasing rabbits, eh? Were you the Daffy Duck to some Bugs Bunny out there, baby?”

She laughed softly, but Simon did not. His gaze remained fixed on the trees behind Hillary. Because Hillary was not alone, and he knew it. Through their binding mark he uttered just one word: 'Kendric.'

Just then a second shape emerged beyond the reach of the firelight. Taller. Still. Watching. Simon’s posture changed immediately and AngelFyre felt the threat level readiness posture had been raised in a flash to Defcon 3. His shoulders drew back, he established his center of gravity, and his eyes narrowed as he tracked movements AngelFyre had not yet been able to see.

Hillary paused briefly near the fire, her tail swaying in slow, content arcs. She glanced back toward the trees again with both ears at attention. She let out an inviting "Woof!" and then trotted happily the few steps it took to meet the figure emerging from the shadows.

It was then that Kendric stepped into the clearing.

He did not rush. He did not call out a greeting. He did not even look surprised to find them there. He simply walked forward with a quiet, brittle calm as one hand rested on Hillary’s head. Delighted with his company, the gentle giant leaned against his leg. His fingers moved through her wiry fur in a slow, absent rhythm that looked to be more robotic than affectionate.

AngelFyre’s brows lifted. She had just heard Simon tell her he was there moments earlier, but it was still surprising.“Kendric?” she asked softly, confusion threading through her voice.“You are all the way out here? At this time of the evening? Why? Is… is everything… everyone… okay back home?”

Her questions were sincere. This part of the land was remote and far from the manor and far from the paths he and Ainsley used to walk with Hillary. Seeing him here now felt off in a way she could not name.

Simon had still not moved. Nor had he spoken. And he had definitely not taken his eyes off Kendric. He stayed crouched beside the fire, his hand still hovering above the birch. His dhampir sight caught every detail the darkness tried to hide. The uneven pull of Kendric’s breath. The strain behind his smile. The way his gaze lingered too long on AngelFyre before flitting to Simon with something sharp beneath it.

A ripple of unease moved through her.

Kendric smiled, but it was thin and did not reach his eyes. “I heard voices,” he said quietly. “I thought I would see who was out here.” His tone was calm. His posture was calm. But his eyes were laser-locked on her.

Spidey hairs on the back of her neck alerted all of her senses, refusing her the ability to shrug her feelings of "offness" off. She could not name what was bothering her, but something was. It was not fear or even danger. It was merely the unsettling sense that Kendric was not quite himself.

She glanced again at Simon, and this time she saw the tension in his jaw. “I suppose the real question to be answered is why you are out here, mate? Were you sent out here to find us?”

Hillary nudged Kendric’s hand and then wandered a few steps toward the edge of the clearing. Her nose lifted, catching a scent only she could decipher. A moment later the Irish Wolfhound trotted off into the trees, her gait steady as she followed whatever small creature had caught her attention.

AngelFyre watched her gentle giant go, unaware of how important that departure would become.

Kendric stepped closer to the fire. He looked first at AngelFyre, then at Simon, and then back to AngelFyre without so much as a polite greeting. His focus finally settled on the walnut cross she was wearing. He was muttering the whole time under his breath. “I did not mean to interrupt anything,” he said, his tone flat. “You two seemed very deep in... conversation.”

AngelFyre's ire was now percolating over the unnecessarily exaggerated pause about just exactly what she and Simon had been "deep in", and she started to respond, but Simon rose to a full standing position in that moment, drawing her attention. Moving back toward her seemed to be out of question for the time being as Kendric had already claimed the space between them, so Simon stayed put. His stance was relaxed, and he looked calm, but his eyes were telling another story. She recognized immediately the energy emanating off him in waves, even from the other side of the campfire.

Simon was on full alert.

'Keep your distance from him, don't antagonize him, and have an escape route in mind. This is NOT a drill, AngelFyre. He has a large hunting knife in his right pants leg pocket and he's not answering questions. Use your wand if you have to.' She nodded, shattered that they were even having to have this silent conversation about one of her very best friends in the world. "Understood, love. Be careful. I am not the one he will hurt, if that is what he is here to do."

Kendric had not been still as they secretly communicated. He began to move, slowly at first, then with a restless energy that made AngelFyre’s pulse quicken. Then he stopped without warning. Not a gradual slowing, not a natural pause. His body simply went still, as if something inside him had snapped into place. The sudden halt was so sharp it made AngelFyre’s breath catch. Even the fire seemed to hold itself differently in the moment he froze. He paced along the edge of the clearing, not in a straight line but in short, uneven arcs.

Her friend's gaze flicked to Simon’s movement, and something in his expression hardened. The brittle calm held, but only barely.

“Kendric,” she said gently, “come sit. Please. You are making me nervous.”

He did not sit. He did not answer. He kept pacing. His breathing had changed. It came in shallow pulls, each one sharper than the last, and his hands opened and closed at his sides as though he could not decide what to do with them. One of his hands held what looked like a crumpled photo. He muttered something under his breath… a fragment of a sentence, then another, then nothing at all.

AngelFyre rose slowly to her feet. She did not move toward him. She simply stood, letting him see her clearly. “Kendric,” she tried again, “talk to me.”

He stopped pacing. Not because her voice reached him, but because something inside him seemed to turn over. “You were talking about a wedding,” he uttered flatly. His voice was thin, stretched too tight. “You were talking about forever,” and he spat the last word out. Then he lifted his head to look directly at her, stilling himself.

AngelFyre felt her stomach drop. She saw nothing of her childhood friend in his eyes. They were those of an injured animal… coiled, cornered, ready to strike. “Kendric… yes. Yes, we were. And it was supposed to be a private moment between Simon and me. It was not meant to be overheard, and it was certainly not meant to hurt you.”

He nodded once, a small, jerky motion. “Of course it wasn't. I remember being told on several occasions that you'd marry Simon,” he continued. “You said you saw your future, and that future was him.” His focus suddenly shone a spotlight on Simon for a moment, but it did not stay there. It returned to her, pulled back as though by gravity. “You never said anything like that to me.”

AngelFyre’s breath hitched. “Kendric, we have been over this. I never wish to hurt y—”

“No. No, no. Don't say it,” he barked sharply, raising an index finger toward her, unaware that the piece of crumpled photo he had been holding fell to the ground as he did so. His pacing started again, and she watched him trampling it in is manic state. It was a photo of him, Ainsley, and herself when they were 7, sitting on bench with their arms around each other. It was folded so that Ainsley was no longer visible, and a big heart had been drawn around Kendric and herself.

“Don't pretend you cared about my feelings then or that you care about them now.”

His pacing quickened, becoming more erratic. He moved back and forth in the half circle he occupied between Simon and AngelFyre, sometimes striking his thigh with a clenched fist. AngelFyre cast a few quick glances Simon’s way, but he was too focused on keeping his eye on Kendric. She knew why. If Kendric moved to attack her, Simon would be there in no time flat before Kendric even knew what had happened.

“I was right here all these years, AF. I was always right here. Waiting. For you.” Then his pacing stopped again, and AngelFyre thought for a moment he might be speaking to God when he looked up to the sky and asked, plaintively, “And this… this is all I get for my love? For my loyalty?”

AngelFyre saw Simon alter his stance, not aggressively, but with purpose “Kendric,” he said softly, “take a breath. Sit down. We can talk.”

She knew he was attempting to de-escalate the situation, but this was one time… and one person… she did not believe Simon’s natural charm would succeed in mollifying.

Kendric answered him without looking at him. “I don’t need to calm down. I need her to tell me why she never said those things to me.”

AngelFyre’s heart cracked with a tender ache for her friend’s own broken heart, but she did not feel that treating him with too much gentleness would do him… or any of them… any good in the moment. She inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled before telling him the absolute, unvarnished truth.

“Because I am in love with Simon, Kendric. It has always and only ever been Simon for me. I am sorry that hurts you, I truly am, but that is why.”

The words must have landed like a punch to his gut.

Kendric’s words sputtered. His pacing resumed, sharper now, each turn cutting closer to the fire. He moved past Simon once, then twice, then again… each pass carrying a tension that made Simon’s shoulders square.

AngelFyre watched them both, her heart climbing into her throat. “Kendric,” she declared quietly, but with steel in her voice, “you are worrying me now. Come and sit.”

He stopped pacing. He turned toward her, and for a moment his expression wavered between confusion and pain. Then the expression changed again, and this time he looked at AngelFyre with the fury of a child denied something he believed was already his.

“You chose him,” he shrieked and then stepped into her personal space, forcing her to lean away from him. “You chose him over me.”

AngelFyre just looked at him, not knowing what more she could say, but Simon spoke up, his tone almost baiting. He was now trying to draw Kendric's focus over to him and away from his girl. “Yeah, she did choose me over you, Kendric. Some things are not always your choice. Some things are just never meant —”

Kendric’s unhinged laughter cut Simon off, but his eyes stayed on AngelFyre as he responded to her fellow. “Some things are just never what… mate?” and his hand moved to his right pants pocket.

His eyes narrowed as he stared straight at AngelFyre, emphasizing the last word with enough disdain to make clear he considered Simon no friend of his. He continued staring her down while addressing Simon.

“You are not good enough for her,” he declared, his voice low and rumbling.

Then he wheeled around on his heel, sharp and sudden, facing Simon fully for the first time.

Simon did not flinch.

“And you never were.”
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Reducio
OOC: Simon and AngelFyre have longstanding permission to godmod one another's characters.

@Colin McCoire

My Hand Always To Your Heart PV Simon Kincaid
Image posted by the member
The Kendric confrontation with @AngelFyre McCubbin

At least he was talking. If Kendric was willing to have a conversation - no matter how disconnected - then maybe they could get through to him. Simon didn't know Kendric well, but they had crossed paths enough over the years and AngelFyre had spoken often about the friend she had grown up with. This wasn't the Kendric she described.

"Kendric, no one's trying to take anything away from you tonight," Simon tried to reason with him without giving in to Kendric's baiting attempts at an argument. "You already did," Kendric sneered and stepped forward, bringing himself closer to where Simon and AngelFyre stood.

"I'm sorry you're hurting," Simon said calmly and and steadily despite the tension in the air. Perhaps the words would reach him. But those words unfortunately didn't help and seemed to spark Kendric. Compassion didn't seem to be what Kendric heard and Simon watched as his eyes narrowed and Kendric's jaw tightened. "Don't you dare pity me," Kendric spat in an angry tone. Simon countered quickly. "I'm not. I'm trying to understand how we ended up here."

Kendric laughed sharply but it was one of bitterness and not amusement. "How we got here? She promised we'd always be friends! She promised I'd never lose her." "And you have not," AngelFyre quickly added. Her voice didn't sound defensive, but rather that she was trying to remind him that he was still her friend; still an important part of her life - someone she had never intended to leave behind.

"Haven't I?" Kendric asked coldy, his voice hollow. He laughed again and cleared his throat. "Haven't I?" he repeated, the words rough. The next moment happened too fast. Kendric took his hand that wasn't brandishing the knife and shoved AngelFyre so quickly that Simon didn't have time to react even when his heightened dhampir reflexes. Simon watched as she lost her balance, stumbled backward, and fell on the ground. "AngelFyre!" Simon shouted out. She did not answer back nor did he see her get back up but he figured the wind must have gotten knocked out of her. That had to be all it was.

In a single heartbeat, the world fell silent. The air around Simon seemed to turn cold. He wanted to go to her side, to come to her aid, to make sure she was alright. It took all his self control not to. Simon knew he couldn't afford to look away from Kendric. If Kendric had been willing to shove her once, Simon wasn't about to gamble on whether he would try again - or worse. As much as he wanted to reach her, protecting her meant staying planted firmly between Kendric and where AngelFyre had fallen. Simon kept his gaze forward.

Kenddric had crossed a line and Simon wasn't going to let him cross it again. For some time, Simon had carried the weight of the moments when he had ignored AngelFyre's warnings and visions about his father - so many moments he wished he could go back and choose differently, sparing them both the pain that followed. He couldn't change what had already happened but he could decide now that he wouldn't let anyone hurt her again.

"You're not going to hurt her," Simon said, breaking through the stillness of the woods. It was still, but not silent. There was a faint hum or empty static white noise that filled the space around them. Still, through it, Simon knew that Kendric had heard him because he spoke loud and clear. This wasn't a threat to Kendric, this was a promise that he would without a doubt keep.

Moonlight caught against the blade as Kendric lifted the knife. Simon moved with him, continuing to position himself between Kendric and where AngelFyre had fallen. Any time Kendric stepped forward, Simon took a bigger step. He wasn't closing the distance quicker for an attack but was ensuring that Kendric would not gain closeness to AngelFyre. Not her. Not again. That thought repeated through Simons mind. Kendric wasn't getting another chance to hurt the person he loved most.

Simon had spent so much of his life trying to prove that he was not defined by violence - that he could be something better, something softer. But softness was not the same as surrender. Even doves had talons. Simon had finally reached the point where he was ready to bare his.

The first attack came without warning. Kendric moved quickly, the knife flashing as he lunged forward. Simon was already moving, instinct taking over before his thoughts could catch up. His hand shot out and caught Kendric's arm before the blade could reach him and redirected the momentum away from himself.

For a brief moment, Kendric's expression shifted. He seemed surprised that Simon was able to stop him so quickly. Simon took the opportunity of the opening and pushed him hard, hard enough to create space. The surprise on Kendric's face seemed to replace back with anger as he hurdled forward again, this time more desperate. Simon barely had time to react and drove a srike into his stomach to stop his advance forward. Simon stood between him and AngelFyre, his breath still steady at the moment. He was not going to let Kendric near her.

Kendric stumbled back and fought to regain his breath. His hand held against his stomach. Simon watched him closely. He knew Kendric wasn't going to give up and go home. After a moment, Kendric charged forward but this time Simon was ready. He shifted out of the way at the last moment and when Kendric turned, Simon's fist connected with Kendric's face. Simon hated that it had to come to this but every time that Kendric refused to stop, Simon knew the reason he was still standing there. AngelFyre.

Something in the distance broke through that white noise static. Perhaps it was a rustle among the trees or a movement deeper in the words. It was barely audible but Simon's heightened senses caught it. And that was all that Kendric needed, that moment, that second. His third strike came before Simon could refocus and the blade caught his arm.

A flash of hot sharp pain cut through him but Simon didn't look down. He didn't give it a moment's thought because the pain didn't matter. All that mattered was making sure that blade never got anywhere near AngelFyre and that Kendric understood he would never get another chance to hurt her.

Simon watched as Kendric's eyes shifted, no longer on him but looking toward where AngelFyre was. Something instinctive rose within him. He had told Kendric his promise: Kendric was not going to hurt her. Simon would not let that happen.

Kendric barely had time to react before Simon moved and the space between them closed. Simon reached for the arm holding the blade, his grip locking around Kendric's wrist before he could do anything else. He twisted hard, redirecting the motion and forcing Kendric's hand away.

But Simon forgot his strength in that moment and as he seemed to get lost in his panic, he stopped holding back. The sound that followed was quick and sharp. Kendric cried out in pain and he ceased his grasp on the knife. Simon watched it fall to the forest floor from the hand, his wrist that now hung at an unnatural angle.

Simon released the hand immediately and shoved Kendric again, sending him stumbling across the ground until he landed hard. Simon retrieved the knife and brought it into his own hands.

Kendric lay amongst the moss-covered forest floor, clutching his injured wrist, blood dripping from his face, as if he was struggling to process what had just happened. Simon stood over him, the knife now in his own hand.

The fire light flickered and Simon could see not anger in Kendric's eyes anymore but fear. It was as if he was looking at Simon as if seeing him for the first time, not as some gentle pushover, or as someone who had given him a chance to walk away - but as someone who had shown exactly what he was capable of when someone he loved was threatened.

Kendric watched him looking absolutely horrified, as if Simon might hurt him further. He then pulled himself back to his feet, turned, and ran. Fast. Simon didn't follow him. He stood there, catching his breath and could hear the sound of Kendric's footsteps fading until they finally disappeared.

He glanced down to the knife in his hand. Once he was afraid of what he might become, that maybe violence in his blood from being the son of his father would define him. But no. Perhaps even doves had talons but they were not meant to tear apart everything in their path. They were not meant to destroy simply because they could. They were meant to protect what mattered.

AngelFyre.

Knowing Kendric was out of the clearing and certain that his horrified expression meant he wouldn't be back, Simon knew that the fight was over. He dropped the knife, knowing he needed to get back to AngelFyre. She was smart to lay low but then again, his girl had always been one of the most intelligent people he had ever met. "AngelFyre!" he called out, already breaking into a run.

But as he grew closer, a sense of wrongness settled over him. That humming static seemed to grow louder and the air seemed to grow colder. Something inside him tightened but he couldn't explain why. "AngelFyre?"

Be kind to one another. (*iNPC is Miles Thatcher)

My Hand Always To Your Heart PV Simon Kincaid
roses smoldering in flames, boy holding a girl, AngelFyre
The Narrowing Point with @Simon Kincaid

10 August 2026

The shove came suddenly and unexpectedly.

AngelFyre stumbled backward, her heel catching on a root she had not seen. The world lurched, firelight smearing into streaks of gold as her balance slipped out from under her. She did not have time to turn, did not have time to protect herself. She felt only the sharp impact at the back of her skull, a shocking and nauseating explosion of pain that blinded her momentarily and sent cartoon stars scattering across the darkness of her mind. When her eyes opened again, confusion swept through her as she realized the forest had tilted on its side and a blanket of twinkling celestial stars was now before her.

Cold rushed in. It was not the night air she knew, but a deeper, numbing kind of cold that seeped into her bones and hollowed her out from the inside. She was breathing too fast. The struggle to breathe deeply brought on panic, and panic only resulted in jagged, shallow rasps. Her mind screamed at her to reposition, but her limbs refused every command.

Fear rose quickly. Everything was disorienting. Nothing felt right. For the first time in her life, AngelFyre felt small and helpless and childlike. And alone.

'God, please be with—'

Her panic began to ebb when, from somewhere far away, Simon shouted her name. Sounds were strangely distorted. A grunt. A cry. The thud of bodies. All of them muffled and distant, as though she was hearing them through water. She tried to answer him, but the binding mark’s soft white static hummed in her mind. Instinctively, she reached for Simon through it with a single word only. Not a sentence. Not a plea. Only the pulse of a thought too large to hold: love. She sent it drifting into the static of her shrinking universe, not knowing if it would reach the vast dimensions of his.

Her vision began to darken at the edges, contracting in a way that brought a realization she could not deny. She was drifting. She was slipping away from him. Sadness, aching and immense, replaced her fear.

A shadow blocked the firelight, and she was lifted into his embrace. There was warmth where there should never be warmth. Simon’s hands, Simon’s arms, Simon lifting her and gathering her against him. He had always been cool to the touch. Always. From the very first moment in the Common Room when she shook his hand and wondered not who Simon Kincaid was, but what Simon Kincaid was. But now he felt warm. She did not understand it. She did not have the clarity left to try.

Her head lolled briefly before settling in his arms as the rest of her lay against his chest. Somehow her eyes found his face, blurred and flickering, but present. She tried to move her hand toward him, but her fingers only trembled. He caught that tiny motion. He always caught her smallest motions. As he had done countless times before, he reached for her hand and kissed it softly. Then the moment of true recognition was fulfilled when he gently moved her hand to press it to his heart. She was vaguely aware of his heartbeats beneath her palm and tried to smile, but her lips only quivered.

Simon mouthed, “Your hand always to my heart, love.” His voice was strained and choked by emotion, and she wanted to comfort him, but…

Something wet slid down her hairline. Something warm spilled across his fingers. Her blood. His hands. AngelFyre was unaware of any of it. She only felt his chest heave at the moment of his recognition. She felt his panic rise. She felt him trying to hold her together with nothing but his voice, but…

I do not want to leave you. It was her last completely cogent thought.

Her vision was dimming further now as her once vibrant blue eyes remained fixed on Simon’s blood-stained ones. A peace began to settle within her. Her beautiful world drew in on itself, becoming smaller and smaller until only a single flicker remained. As it was inevitably meant to do, it collapsed into a narrowing point of bright white light, like an old television shutting off.

The binding mark hummed only a few seconds longer, growing fainter and fainter before it, too, stopped.

Silence.

The world folded inward, and AngelFyre followed it.

heart beat flatline emoji
Reducio
This thread has now completed. The story continues here.

OOC: Simon and AngelFyre have longstanding permission to godmod one another's characters.

@Colin McCoire