The lock clicked with a soft, final snick, sealing the world outside.
Moonlight poured through the tall windows in long, silvery beams, painting the room in shades of silver and shadow.
London's rooftops sprawled beyond the glass…cold, ancient, indifferent..but inside, the air felt suddenly alive, charged with something new and fragile and inevitable.
Aisha stood by the window, hands folded in front of her, her white hair catching the light like threads of starlight.
The black cracks that had marred her skin for so long were gone.
Her posture was straight, graceful, but her fingers trembled just slightly against the fabric of her dress.
She didn't turn when she heard his footsteps. She simply waited, the color rising slowly in her cheeks, as she waited in anticipation.
