The door clicked shut behind Silas, sealing off the world of formalities and familial expectations. Back in the sanctuary of their room, the air felt lighter, warmer. His composed mask, perfectly maintained in his grandmother's presence, softened into something more genuine.
He found Elara exactly where he’d left her, but the sight never failed to steal his breath. Bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, she was curled against the headboard, her cream-coloured loungewear making her look impossibly soft. A laptop was balanced on her knees, her brow furrowed in concentration as her fingers flew across the keyboard.
“Feeling better?” His voice, a low rumble after the evening’s quiet, broke the silence.
She jumped slightly, then a smile instantly brightened her features. “You’re back.”
