Her hand touched his jaw, her bright eyes pored into him, and Bragi knew what was coming. A wiser, older Bragi would have stopped it. Would have pulled away before things got messy. Dropped the imploring eyes before things got out of hand. But Bragi was not old. He was not wise. And when he looked into that green, he knew he couldn't have denied her anything even if he was. Especially not something he wanted too.
So when she looked for an invitation, Bragi gave her one. When her lips went towards his, Bragi's met hers halfway. In a moment he knew he was going to be in trouble, but he didn't think about that during this moment. During this moment, Bragi only thought about the way her lips felt on his, the smoothness of her hair between his fingers, the way she smelled like her apples but tasted better, and how much he wished he could put this moment in a rift removed from time and space where it could play in a loop forever without consequence.
When she pulled away, Bragi kissed her back. It was a last moment. One that didn't happen in a rift. One he couldn't get away with forgetting. He wanted it to last as long as possible before the world came back and crashed in on their ears. His lips met hers again and a reality that had borrowed truth before started to pay the debt. The memory he didn't have floated to the ground like a petal and sunk into the earth. Bragi didn't need to have or not have it anymore. It had served whatever purpose he had thought it had, and been replaced by something new and better that he wouldn't be able to shake so easily. “I'm sorry,” Bragi said, “I wish I did.” He kissed her again.
She had cheated. She was playing with a different set of rules and now the game had to be amended in terrible ways to fit them. Bragi wished he regretted this. He wished he could say that he wished she hadn't kissed him then. That he hadn't kissed her back. That every kiss didn't feel more right than the last one. That he wasn't suddenly much more painfully aware of his own heart. His real wish in that moment was simpler. Bragi wished he didn't know what he had to do next.
A bird suddenly chirped and the moment ended. Bragi pulled away very abruptly. He blinked. “I'm sorry” Bragi said, “We can't do this.” He didn't want to look at her, but he did. “I want to. But we shouldn't. It can't lead to a good place for either of us. We both want very different things. If we're taking separate paths we can't take them together.” He could feel precipitation building in the wells beneath his eyes, but Bragi ignored it.
“I met someone recently.” His voice didn't actually crack, but it almost did, and for a god of eloquence it might as well have. “It's very new. It isn't actually anything yet. But she has a brightness to her. The good wholesome side of fire in her spirit. And an incredibly kind and generous heart. I don't know if it will go anywhere. But if I'm lucky and play my cards right it might. I'd like to see if it will. And I don't want to do anything that might jeopardize her trust later.” While he was talking, Bragi felt something else crack a little too. He was breaking his own heart for a distant ray of hope the size of one of the goddess's apple slivers, and blind faith in his silly ideas. The goddess before him kept trying to figure out if he was trustworthy. Bragi hoped he could trust himself too.