Draven did not move immediately after she turned away, but something within him shifted subtle at first, then sharper, like a thread being pulled taut inside his chest. The word lingered in his mind, not as a thought but as a fracture in certainty. Why does she feel like… her? He should have dismissed it. He should have turned away, buried the feeling under logic and control, as he had done countless times before. But this time, something refused to obey. Something deeper than reason. Something that did not belong to the version of himself he allowed others to see.
