The room was silent.
The fire in the hearth burned low, its flames shivering rather than dancing, giving only a faint warmth against the biting cold of the stone chamber. The tall windows were shut tight, but even so, a draft snaked its way through the cracks in the walls. The curtains shifted slightly, and with every shift came the whisper of winter air, the scent of iron, and the taste of something bitter that clung to the tongue.
Seraphine or rather, Lissa, trapped in Seraphine's body sat rigidly in the chair carved from dark wood. Her pale hands rested on her knees, the fingers tapping unconsciously, as though echoing the rhythm of her thoughts. Across from her sat Elric, the man who had once been the center of Seraphine's world.
Her eyes narrowed. Obsessed. That's what it was.
