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A sudden touch shocks you out of your reverie.

You look up into a blinding, familiar, light.



You meet a familiar gaze.

Haze's other hand reaches, slowly, the skin of her fingers ghosts your cheek, then cups your face. You almost flinch, but you catch yourself. You look away, then back, as her thumb lightly grazes you. Tracing something. Cheek to eye and back again.

The action, so simple, yet everything.

You resign yourself to your makeshift fate. Your regrets. Your mistakes. Your glory.

Your body deflates.

And you finally relax.

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