The city.

Eloise

I have never seen anything like this in my life. 

The city sprawls before me, an intricate maze of towering spires, grand bridges, and bustling streets. Golden banners ripple in the wind, merchants shout over the chatter of the crowd, and the scent of spices and fresh bread drifts through the air. 

It's *alive* in a way I never expected. 

Caius walks beside me, his usual guarded posture slightly relaxed. He must have been here before, but there's something different about him today—maybe it's the way he isn't constantly scanning for threats, or the way he lets me drag him toward the nearest food stall without protest. 

Because *oh my god*, the food. 

I stop at the first vendor selling something that smells remotely delicious. A plump woman with rosy cheeks and an apron dusted in flour beams at me as she hands me a skewer of grilled meat and vegetables, coated in a sauce that glistens under the sunlight. 

I take one bite. 

*Heaven.* 

"Oh my *god*," I mumble, covering my mouth as I chew. "This is amazing." 

Caius, who has been watching me with his arms crossed, raises an amused brow. "It's just food." 

"*Just* food?" I gape at him. "Caius, this is art. This is *life*. You can't just call it 'food.'" 

He shakes his head, but there's a faint twitch at the corner of his lips. "You're ridiculous." 

"Ridiculously happy, yes," I say, already reaching for another skewer. 

We move from stall to stall, and I try everything that catches my eye—sweet pastries filled with fruit, crispy fried dumplings, freshly baked bread topped with honey. I'm too caught up in the experience to notice how Caius keeps watching me, until I catch him staring. 

"What?" I ask, pausing with a sticky bun halfway to my mouth. 

He blinks, as if he hadn't realized he'd been staring. Then he exhales, shaking his head. "Nothing. You just... look like a child experiencing the world for the first time." 

I smile. "That's because I am. This is *my* world, but I've never actually *lived* in it before. I only wrote about it." 

Caius studies me for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his golden eyes. Then, with a small shake of his head, he reaches out and wipes a stray crumb from my cheek. 

I freeze. 

The touch is brief—so brief I might've imagined it—but my heart does a weird little *flip* in my chest. 

"Eat slower," he mutters before turning away. "You're going to choke at this rate." 

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. 

For a moment, I forget about the food, the city, the overwhelming excitement of it all. 

All I can think about is the way Caius looked at me just now. 

And why, for the first time since meeting him, I feel like we're standing on even ground.

**Caius

She smiles too easily. 

It's something I've noticed since we stepped into the city—how her eyes widen in wonder at every new sight, how she hums in delight at every bite of food, how she reaches for my sleeve without thinking when she wants to pull me toward something interesting. 

She's always *reaching* for me. 

And I—*I let her*. 

It's strange, this feeling. 

To watch someone so *unburdened* by the world I've suffered in. To witness her joy as if it were my own. 

I don't deserve to feel it. 

And yet, I do. 

A faint smile tugs at my lips as she bites into another pastry, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. "Caius," she sighs, her voice almost reverent. "I'm going to live here just to eat." 

I huff a quiet laugh. "You wouldn't last a week." 

She gasps dramatically. "Excuse you, I think I'd do just fine. Look at me, I fit right in." 

She doesn't. Not really. 

Even in the midst of the crowd, she stands apart. She isn't weighed down by the same caution, the same wariness that lingers in the eyes of those who have lived here long enough to *know better*. 

She is *light*. 

And I—I was forged in darkness. 

I swallow the thought down before it can ruin the moment. 

Instead, I let myself do something I *shouldn't*. 

Something reckless. 

Something selfish. 

I reach out and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

It's a simple gesture. Small. But when she turns to look at me, lips parted in surprise, I can tell she *felt* it. 

The warmth lingers on my fingertips. 

For a moment, I allow myself to enjoy this. 

To enjoy *her*. 

But then— 

The past slams into me like a blade to the gut. 

A different time. A different city. A different woman with the same face, the same voice, the same light in her eyes. 

A memory I've tried to bury. 

*"We should stay here forever," she had whispered, her fingers laced with mine. "Just for a little while. Just long enough to pretend we're normal."* 

I had smiled then, too. 

I had let myself believe in the illusion. 

And in the end, she had *died for me*. 

The weight of it crashes over me, drowning out the warmth of this moment, stealing the air from my lungs. 

I school my features before Eloise can notice, before she can *see* the shift in me. 

She is not *her*. 

No matter how much she looks like her, no matter how much she makes me feel *the same way*. 

I shake off the thought and focus on her again. On the way she's still watching me, as if waiting for me to say something. 

"Are you done stuffing your face?" I ask, forcing my tone to stay light. 

She rolls her eyes, but there's a smile on her lips. "*No.*" 

I chuckle, shoving my ghosts deeper into the dark corners of my mind. 

Whatever this is—whatever warmth I feel when I'm with her—it doesn't belong to me. 

But if it makes *her* happy, then I'll allow it. 

Even if it ruins me in the end.