Under the starless night, Lilia sat in silence, staring blankly at the thin air. A week had passed, yet Zethan had not returned. She would be lying if she said she didn't miss him.
She had convinced herself to pull back, to stop growing so attached. Yet, the more she tried to distance herself, the more she yearned for him.
For the past three days, she had done the same thing—sitting there in silence, lost in thought. The wind drifted through the open window, sending a chill across her pale skin. Her inky black hair swept to the side as she slowly blinked, trapped in the endless cycle of waiting.
She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them loosely. How pathetic was she? Sitting here every night, waiting, like some desperate fool. Zethan had never asked her to wait for him—never even hinted that he expected her to—but she couldn't help herself. The empty space he left behind was suffocating.
