The next morning, Aelina was already awake before the sun had risen. She sat cross-legged on the rooftop of her building, her dark hair damp with the morning dew, her eyes locked on the city still cloaked in shadows. The storm had passed, but something inside her still trembled like the trees did the night before.
A soft chime buzzed from her phone. She checked it.
Kael: "Don't vanish today. I need your presence at a meeting. 9:30. Wear something sharp."
Aelina narrowed her eyes at the message, then exhaled through her nose.
"Wear something sharp," she muttered, mimicking him under her breath. "I am the sharp thing."
By 9:15, she stood in front of the tall glass tower once again. She wore a black blazer over a deep blue top, tight jeans and boots that echoed with every step. Her hair was up, her expression calm, unreadable.
Kael was waiting for her at the elevator.
He glanced her over with those icy eyes. "That works."
"Was that a compliment?"
"A tactical observation."
"Still sounded like one."
His lips twitched.
The elevator doors closed behind them.
"What's this meeting?"
"Some investors with very expensive suits and very short patience. You don't need to say anything. Just sit, listen, and stay close."
"Like a dog."
"No. Dogs are obedient."
"Is that your way of saying I'm not?"
"It's my way of saying I don't expect you to be."
She looked at him sideways, curious.
"Why bring me at all?"
He didn't answer right away. Then:
"Because your presence changes the room."
The meeting was long. Dry. Numbers, graphs, projections. But Aelina could feel the tension every time she shifted in her chair. She noticed how the others glanced at her, uncertain, some intrigued. Her silence was power.
Kael spoke with confidence and precision, like every word was a weapon. At one point, when an investor questioned a risk in the proposed expansion, Kael said:
"The greatest risk is assuming everything will stay the same."
Then he looked at Aelina.
"Sometimes, disruption is exactly what we need."
Later, in the elevator again, Aelina raised an eyebrow. "Was that about me?"
"Everything is about you," he said simply.
She laughed. "Dangerous thing to say to a girl like me."
He didn't flinch. "You don't even know the half of it."
That evening, she was back at the rooftop. Kael joined her without being invited, two cups of something warm in hand.
"You have a habit of showing up where you're not expected," she said, accepting the drink anyway.
"You don't lock your rooftop. That's an invitation where I come from."
"And where exactly is that?"
"Somewhere colder than here."
"Explains the ice."
Kael chuckled. Aelina tilted her head.
"You laugh more when it's just us."
"That's because the world outside requires armor."
"And I don't?"
"You are armor. And fire."
She blinked. "That almost sounded poetic."
"Careful. I might start writing you sonnets next."
"That would be terrifying."
They both smiled.
A moment passed.
"Why do you really care if I vanish?" she asked softly.
Kael didn't speak immediately. When he did, his voice was quieter than usual.
"Because you make me feel like I'm still human. And I forget, sometimes."
She didn't know what to say to that.
So she just leaned back against the edge of the rooftop, her shoulder brushing his.
And for the first time in a long time, they sat in silence—not because they had nothing to say, but because for once, they didn't need words at all.