Ariane:
The wind had changed.
We'd stopped sparring hours ago, but I hadn't moved from where I stood, perched at the edge of the rooftop, watching the sun bleed itself into the horizon. A molten bruise stretched across the sky, slow and golden and aching as if it pained the sun to say goodnight to the world without being able to say hello to the moon.
Rook was asleep on a slab of stone behind me, his arms folded behind his head like it was the most natural thing in the world to nap on a rock. He muttered something under his breath—probably a sarcastic dream—and rolled onto his side with a smile on his face.
I hadn't realized how long I'd been standing there until Ridge stepped up beside me, silent as a shadow, his warmth brushing my arm. "You didn't even notice me coming," he said soft
