Dark thorns

Liam's fingers tapped idly against the wooden table. His gaze lowered briefly to the cup, the golden liquid inside untouched.

For a second, he considered taking a sip—just to see the old man's reaction—but he dismissed the thought.

"It's nothing," Liam finally said.

Ratna's face squeezed into a frown. His fists clenched.

His reaction was far too exaggerated for such a simple response. His eyes twitched slightly, and Liam noticed the subtle shift in his breathing—shallow, uneven.

"You refuse the drink I bought for you?" Ratna asked, his voice slightly strained.

Liam said nothing.

Ratna scoffed, shaking his head. His fingers drummed against the wooden surface of the table before tightening into a fist once again.