The Missed Night
Sasha's brow lifted, disbelief flickering across her face like a tremor she couldn't quite suppress. "Entire party… over already?" Her voice was small, fragile, uncertain—like a candle's flame struggling against a sudden gust. She turned instinctively toward Victor, eyes searching his for reassurance, for an anchor in the sudden confusion.
Victor blinked, his composure momentarily cracking. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out—only a quiet exhale that fogged in the cool night air. Then, with a faint shake of his head, he met her gaze, the unspoken understanding between them enough to draw a rueful sigh from both.
The moonlight caught his eyes, those calm, steady pools of violet that now shimmered with quiet realization. Julia, standing a few steps away, merely inclined her head, saying nothing—her presence a sharp reminder of reality cutting through the fragile warmth that had wrapped around the two moments ago.
