Vivian lay on his bed, one arm resting under his head while the other lay loosely across his chest.
His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling for a while before he let out a quiet breath, his brows pulling together slightly.
"Where is she taking so long…"
He muttered under his breath, his voice low and filled with mild impatience.
After a moment, he turned his head and slowly looked around the room.
The last time he had been here, it had looked completely different.
Back then, everything had a rough, masculine feel to it.
The walls had been decorated with things that spoke of strength and pride.
There had been a large painting of a sword-wielding warrior, standing tall as if he was conquering the entire world.
Even the smallest details had carried that same energy.
His gaze shifted toward the empty space beside the bed, and his expression softened a little as he sighed.
"There used to be something here…" he murmured quietly.
A faint memory surfaced in his mind.
