"Hey."
Elion was still brooding over his thoughts when the soothing voice entered his ears.
He looked toward the source absentmindedly, and just as he had heard, Zenovia was standing there, her expression blank.
Elion didn't answer her. For a moment, his gaze drifted over her voluptuous frame out of habit, but for once, there was no lust in his gaze.
He looked away a second later and returned his gaze to the dark skies. He heard boots crunch softly against the ground as Zenovia approached him.
Then he felt a pair of soft, warm hands wrapping around his left fist, gently prying it open. He didn't resist.
In fact, only then did he realise what he had been doing.
His nails had been digging into his own palm so deeply that he had broken the skin and drawn blood.
Even now, he barely felt the pain; there was just a faint sting that he thought didn't matter. His body was already tired and sore, though he felt much better now; what was a little sting in the palms going to do?
