Hadrian approached Alia, stopping a meter away. Though he was certain she sensed his presence, she didn't turn; her gaze remained locked on the horizon, her long black hair whipping in the wind.
He let out a sigh, heavy with guilt, and took the final few steps to sit on the grass to her left.
For a long while, neither spoke. They simply stared at the endless stretch of water where the ocean met the blue sky in the far distance.
Finally, Alia turned to Hadrian, studying him with a furrowed brow and a lingering sense of familiarity.
"Who are you?" she asked.
A distant sadness washed through Hadrian, though the question didn't surprise him.
The last thing Alia should have remembered was the night he had turned her into a vessel. He had practiced his answer, yet he found himself momentarily at a loss for words.
"Hadrian," he said, his voice stiff.
There was a stretch of silence before Alia nodded perceptively.
