The little diner was warm, its neon sign buzzing faintly outside against the cooling night. Inside, soft music floated between the clatter of plates and murmured conversations. Ash sat across from Cordelia in a corner booth, his long frame taking up more space than the seat seemed to allow.
Cordelia stirred her coffee absentmindedly, the spoon clinking against the cup in a rhythm that betrayed her restlessness. She wore a faint smile, careful and practiced, but her eyes darted down to the table every time Ash’s gaze lingered too long.
Ash noticed.
He didn’t call her out for it, though. Instead, he leaned back, watching her in that quiet way of his. He had learned that pushing Cordelia only made her retreat further, but tonight… tonight she seemed especially fragile, like a cracked vase
