The wood of the outdoor table felt rough and damp beneath Aamir's skin, a stark contrast to the ethereal, polished beauty of Aurelion. He sat alone, the silence of the night pressing against his eardrums like a physical weight.
Aurelion was a city of glass and light, a place that breathed through crystal chimes. Even now, a stray breeze caught the hanging shards of the nearby eaves, sending a haunting, melodic tinkle through the air. It was a sound that should have been peaceful, but to Aamir, it sounded like a thousand tiny glass teeth grinding together.
His elbow was anchored to the table, fingers buried deep into his hair as he supported the throbbing weight of his head. His gaze was fixed on a single knot in the wood, yet he saw nothing. His mind was a chaotic storm of faces—thousands of them—faceless girls merging into the sobbing image of Erin.
