When she reached him, he smiled faintly. “I…didn’t know you’d be here,” she managed to speak. “I wasn’t sure either,” he said softly, “until I heard your pulse.” Her breath hitched. “My… what?” “Forgive me.” He looked away, almost embarrassed. “I forget how that sounds to mortals.” “Mortals?” she repeated. “You make it sound like you’re not one.” He said nothing. Up close, his beauty felt wrong, it was too precise, too graceful, too perfect like a sculpture pretending to be human. His clothes were simple but elegant, his voice like low music against the murmurs of the crowd. “You disappeared,” she said. “After the bridge. I thought you were dying.” “I was,” he said, eyes on her again. “And then you touched me.”