"Achoo—"
Ava Kent's sneeze pulled Julius Goodman back to his senses. He quickly carried her down from the Sky Ladder, but as they passed by the riverbank, a figure caught Ava's attention.
The person, seemingly sculpted by heavenly hands, with a refined elegance, stood with hands in pockets against the stone railing by the river, long, slightly curled hair dancing gently in the night breeze, lips thin and soft, curved slightly, as if in a light laugh or mockery.
Seeing Ava looking over, he raised his head slightly, with an air of casualness and recklessness, yet exuding a hint of danger.
The smile on Ava's face froze, and a sinking feeling struck her heart.
Why would she encounter this jinx here?
The young man's slender hand pulled a phone from his pocket, spinning it casually, and though Ava couldn't tell what he did, in no time her phone began to ring.
Perhaps it carried some kind of magic; she strongly predicted that this call was from him.
