I find myself tailing Elena these days.
I know she is strong, but the worry eats at me. I can't help but wonder what she is doing. I realize she has her own life and work, but the urge to keep her close is stronger than ever.
Mondrovia is ever busy, mixed with different people, I'm used to slinking in the corners when I'm not busy with work. The city smells of wet asphalt and streetlamps, sharp and metallic scents in the evening air are familiar as my name.
I had been scanning the streets for hours, a habit I could not shake ever since Elena had walked into my orbit, and my instincts refused to rest.
Something about the way her aura flickered in the crowd had me restless, keyed, my mind straining for every psychic print she left behind.
And then there she was.
Her silhouette moved with effortless grace between clusters of pedestrians. A pulse starts skipping in me because she hasn't seen me yet.
