Cain stepped onto the platform, his bare feet meeting the cold surface. His hair was messy, clothes rumpled, and his overall appearance gave the impression that he had rolled straight out of bed. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his mind still spinning from the morning's events, but he forced himself to focus.
Abel stood waiting, perfectly composed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips. He tilted his head slightly, taking in Cain's disheveled appearance with a chuckle. He must have been unable to sleep due to fear, Abel thought. That was the only explanation that made sense to him.
Yet as Abel studied him more closely, something about Cain seemed off. He wasn't entirely focused. There was a distant look in his eyes, a distraction that Abel couldn't quite place.
'What could he even be thinking about right now?' Abel wondered despite himself as a flicker of unease stirred beneath his confidence.
