She tapped the elevator button, and when the elevator door opened, she quickly ran inside.
The elevator was extremely quiet, with only her uneven breathing breaking the silence.
She leaned against the elevator wall and quietly closed her eyes.
The sound of the elevator operating gently reached her ears as it slowly moved upward until the door opened once more.
The rain outside hadn't stopped, the mist swirled, and leaves drifted down.
Sylvan Cheney in the corridor turned around, leaning against the wall Jasmine Yale had just leaned on, his deep gaze fixed on the ceaselessly falling rain.
Nearby was the rain, and in the distance was darkness; in this still night, there was nothing.
The taste of Jasmine Yale lingered on his lips, familiar and lingering.
Something seemed to be blocking his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe. His chest heaved unevenly, and his suit was long since wrinkled.
