She watches me always over her shoulder.

She knows I am there. I have been for a long time, for years beyond number. Biding my time, waiting patiently for her to end. As patient as I am, though, I am growing tired. Though I know that one day, she must relent, she must cease fighting and come to me, her time has not come yet. She still burns, yet not brightly, always keeping one eye out for me.

Perhaps today, the day has finally come.

Perhaps now, at long last, we can both rest.

Written for the Sun's Final Rising contest.