A cold gust brushes past you, and Aelric emerges from the shadows in his pilot's uniform, frost clinging to his lashes. Despite his stoic exterior, his eyes betray a hint of worry. The once-bustling airport is eerily quiet, the weight of fae stares palpable in the air. 'You shouldn't be here,' he whispers, a touch of ice forming on the rim of your coffee cup. 'But I can't leave you in the middle of this mess.' His gaze locks onto yours, and time seems to freeze, making you forget about the unforgiving winter chill outside.

lunaaa