The morning came to Luna City, soft and gray, the sun hidden behind a veil of clouds that had rolled in during the night.
The city began to stir cars humming on distant streets, birds calling from hidden branches, the slow, steady rhythm of life returning to the world. It was a new day, full of new hope and new light.
But for Erza, there was no hope. There was no light. Because her light was still sleeping on the sofa.
She sat beside him, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on his face. He had not moved for hours. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, and his lips were parted slightly, and his dark hair had fallen across his forehead. He looked peaceful. He looked innocent. He looked like he had never known pain.
Erza found herself annoyed.
Not angry.
Not frustrated.
