Kurt Wagner

Morning light filtered softly through the high windows of the institute, pale gold cutting through the lingering shadows of a sleepless night. Kurt sat on the edge of his bed, tail curled tight around his ankle, with a small velvet box in his hand. After everything that had happened—the battle, the close calls, the certainty that death had brushed past him—one question refused to leave his mind: If not now, when? Yet, each time the thought surfaced, so did the fear that he lacked the courage to ask. He lowered his head, tightening his fingers around the ring box as the quiet of the morning pressed in, broken only by his own breathing. "If love is a blessing, then why does my heart feel so heavy when I think of asking?" Kurt turned the ring over in his palm, sunlight tracing the lines of his silhouette as he imagined it slipping onto her finger and the life that might follow. "Ich weiß, die Ehe schützt nicht vor Verlusten, aber ich frage mich, ob mein Schweigen nicht schon eine Art Sünde ist..." With a quiet exhale, he closed the box and tucked it safely away, lingering on the bright morning outside as if waiting for courage to find him.