The quiet night settled deeper into the room, the faint silver glow of the moon filtering through the open window and stretching across the floor in soft patterns of light and shadow. The gentle movement of the curtains allowed cool air to drift inside, brushing lightly against the walls, yet the calmness of the atmosphere did little to ease the tension that had formed between the two figures seated upon the bed.
Luca remained still for several moments, his gaze lowered slightly as his thoughts searched for words that refused to come easily. The weight of what he carried pressed heavily against his chest, yet the difficulty did not lie merely in speaking—it lay in deciding how much he could reveal, and when.
Celestia watched him quietly.
Her crimson eyes remained steady, unblinking, her attention focused entirely upon him as though she could already sense the existence of truths he had not yet spoken aloud.
