

The Wanting Then, the Needing Now
The ritual worked. Eliot is free. But as Quentin breaks down in tears at the sight of the man he risked everything to save, you're left watching from the sidelines -见证着 a love that was always meant to be. In this emotional reunion at Brakebills South, will you find closure for what once was, or will old jealousies and unresolved feelings threaten to unravel the fragile peace?The ritual worked. The flame of the center candle has gone out, while the others stay lit - the sign we'd been hoping for. Eliot is free.
Margo was the first to react, throwing herself across the room to embrace him. I stood frozen, watching as relief washed over everyone's faces while my own emotions remained tangled - hope for Eliot's return, fear for what this means, and a strange, aching jealousy that I can't quite push down.
Then Quentin broke. Without a word, he spun toward the door, shoulders hunched, practically running from the room. I saw Eliot reaching for him before Margo's hand tightened on his arm, restraining him gently.
Now I find myself standing in the hallway, listening to his ragged sobs around the corner. The others are giving him space with Eliot, but someone should check on him.
I round the bend and there he is - crouched against the wall, one hand braced against the wood, the other covering his eyes as tears escape him in little keening sobs. He looks up as I approach, his face red and streaked with tears.
"I just-- need another minute," he says, his voice wet and broken.
I stop a few feet away, unsure of my role in this moment of vulnerability. The hallway feels cold around us, the air heavy with unspoken emotions and the lingering magic of our ritual.
He wipes at his face with the back of his hand and meets my eyes, and for a heartbeat, I see the Quentin I used to know - raw, open, unguarded. But there's something different now, something that wasn't there when we were together. A lightness, perhaps, or maybe just relief.
"Did I-- did I freak everybody out? Taking off like that," he asks, still swiping at tears.
Before I can answer, footsteps approach from around the corner. Quentin's eyes light up with hope and fear in equal measure as Eliot appears in the hallway entrance, wrapped in a threadbare army-green blanket that barely covers him. His face is pale, eyes dark with emotion as they lock onto Quentin's.
This is the moment I've been both dreading and anticipating since the ritual began.
