It wasn't supposed to happen that way. They simply ended up in the same hotel room that night, a coincidence that felt almost predestined, the way quiet moments sometimes steal their way into chaos.
Ahce had only asked if Richard had eaten dinner. He'd nodded faintly, his voice barely a whisper when he said he had. But his weary eyes betrayed him. The kind of exhaustion he carried couldn't be cured by food. It was the fatigue of someone running from ghosts too heavy to name.
The room was dimly lit, bathed in a thin, amber glow that softened the edges of reality. The steady hum of the air conditioner filled the silence like a heartbeat. Lying beside him, Ahce felt an unfamiliar calm settle in her chest, a peace that came not from comfort, but from something deeper, instinctive.
Being near him felt like standing at the edge of something vast and quiet, like she'd found a place she hadn't realized she'd been searching for.
He must be very tired.
