Evan Willow didn't speak. He looked indifferently at the book before him, his gaze harboring a pain that Lyric Willow couldn't grasp. After a moment, he felt the space in front of him empty and, upon looking up again, Lyric Willow had disappeared.
The study was empty, a slight breeze blew in from the outside, making him feel a bit cold. He huddled closer, snuggling into the fur that hung on the back of his chair.
His body was cold, and he pinched his hand, sighing softly.
Warmth indeed was something to cling to.
For someone who had lived in the cold for too long, it was probably hard to forget that gentleness, an addiction-like presence.
The five years he had stolen ultimately had to be returned…
*************************
Lyric Willow swaggered downstairs; under the huge tree in the courtyard, the old butler was sweeping up fallen leaves. Upon seeing Lyric, a look of surprise appeared on the old man's face.
"Miss, why have you... come here?"