Ragnar's steps faltered as she passed him. He didn't know why. Perhaps it was the expression in her eyes or the absence of one or perhaps it was the fact that she didn't even glance his way, didn't pause, or utter a single word. He wasn't sure and yet, the moment lingered longer than he liked.
She moved past him like a shadow, silent and unbothered, and he caught a faint trace of her scent, vanilla, with an undertone he couldn't quite place. Something earthy, almost wild. It tugged at a part of his memory that refused to come forward, teasing him with its familiarity.
It was maddening, the way her presence seemed to cling to the air, even long after she was gone.
