Villain Ch 1725. Stalker
Allen walked.
Hands in pockets. Shoulders slightly hunched. The sharp wind bit at the edges of his jacket, but he didn't pull it tighter. The cold helped. Not enough to numb, but enough to clear. The sky above was velvet black, cracked open by blinking stars and the occasional passing cloud. His boots echoed quietly along the stone-paved street, broken only by the steady hum of the streetlights above.
They buzzed like old insects. The warm, yellow kind. Industrial and soft at the edges.
This part of the city was asleep. Not dead—just breathing slow. The kind of silence that let you think.
And he needed it.
Because even now—long after the kiss, after the goodbye, after the door had shut behind him—Azura still hadn't left his head.
She trembled.
