The evening air had a peculiar crispness to it, one that didn't quite belong to the early stages of nightfall but lingered like a whisper of something unspoken. Vyan adjusted the collar of the shirt Adrian had brought him, sleek and fitting like it belonged to someone more accustomed to elegance than bloodshed. As he sat in the passenger seat of Adrian's car, he stared out the window, the world rushing past in a blur of glowing city lights and sleepy neighborhoods.
Adrian was quiet beside him, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the open window. The cool wind tousled his hair slightly, but his expression was focused.
"She's a little odd," Adrian said finally, eyes still on the road. "But if there's anyone who might understand what happened to you… it's her."
Vyan didn't reply immediately. His fingers absentmindedly traced the seatbelt. "And what does she do exactly?"
