The Door
"Leon," a hushed voice said respectfully from outside the door.
The stillness within the room elongated and weighty, like glass restraining a tide.
Leon's golden eyes contracted, the relaxation of night giving way to something more alert, something more acute. His fingers stroked through Rias's matted crimson hair, a gentle, absent motion of reassurance, though his thoughts were already elsewhere.
And then… he smiled.
Because that voice wasn't unfamiliar. It was Mia. His Mia.
The voice rang through the wood not like a servant, not like a messenger, but with the gentle uncertainty only she bore when summoning him in the morning.
Leon's chest vibrated with low amusement. "So… even she's here."
But that smile of his, peaceful and confident, wasn't matched by the others.
