BITTERSWEET PART 3: ARMATA AND CALISTA

Calista

Pacing the expanse of my bedroom, the luxurious opulence feels suffocating. The brocade curtains, the plush carpets—none of it offers comfort. Levi’s troubled gaze haunts me, his abrupt departure a gnawing puzzle. Did I push him too far? A twinge of guilt coils in my stomach, and I halt mid-step, a breath caught between worry and regret.

I halt mid-step, pressing my palms into my eyes, willing away the sting of tears that threaten to betray me. A distant howl, a sound both mournful and wild punctures the silence of the night. It draws me, a siren’s call, to the balcony. The chill of the night air kisses my skin as I push the doors open, stepping into the moon’s soft glow.

Down below, the night stretches out with shadows and whispers, and in the midst of it all stands Levi, a solitary figure making his way back, his sweat-soaked clothes sticking to his body, a glistening layer of exertion. What the hell was he up to? Did he shift and run for hours?

It’s 3 a.m. The world is sile