The demigod caught the movement before he heard her voice—a girl weaving her way toward the stack of lumber with a measured, familiar air. She didn’t look like a courier or a skyboat captain or crewmate, but she moved like someone who knew what she was looking for.
He realized he was in her way a second too late. Noah shifted to the side, murmuring, “Sorry,” as he stepped back. His voice came out low, rougher than intended. He was impatient, in this moment.
He stuffed his hands back into his coat pockets, gaze lifting to scan the crowd again. Still no contact. The sun cut sharp across the stone, and the wind hadn’t let up. Every minute felt like a risk—because simply his being raged against the void and the void touched. Noah kept his posture loose, his eyes busy. Watching the flow of movement.
He realized he was in her way a second too late. Noah shifted to the side, murmuring, “Sorry,” as he stepped back. His voice came out low, rougher than intended. He was impatient, in this moment.
He stuffed his hands back into his coat pockets, gaze lifting to scan the crowd again. Still no contact. The sun cut sharp across the stone, and the wind hadn’t let up. Every minute felt like a risk—because simply his being raged against the void and the void touched. Noah kept his posture loose, his eyes busy. Watching the flow of movement.
no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
sitting all alone inside your head
