I walk through the lobby, Angel beside me like always—a quiet presence, warm and familiar. The morning light streams through the tall windows, catching the gold in his hair, making him glow.
Staff members pass us with their usual greetings, bows, murmured
"Good morning, President" and "Good morning, Mr. Angel."
I return them with a soft smile, but my mind isn't here.
It's elsewhere. Searching.
My eyes scan the crowd, moving from face to face, hoping to catch a glimpse of dark hair, dark eyes, a quiet smile meant only for me.
Where is he? Where's Deniz?
The morning with Moon still clings to my skin like a second layer—the weight of his gaze, the heat of his touch, the cold emptiness in his voice when he saw the ring on my chest.
I need Deniz. Need to see him. Need to hold him. Need to breathe him in until the chaos in my head finally settles.
Then I see Ziya.
