Damien stood in silence.
His lips remained sealed, and his gaze turned inward as he quietly wrestled with the weight of what had transpired. Not a word left his mouth—nor did Little White or Arctic try to force one. They simply waited, granting him the space to absorb the consequences of his actions.
Time seemed to stretch thin in that moment, a rare stillness settling over the strange trio. Even the air felt a touch heavier, as though it too held its breath.
And yet, amidst that quiet…
A subtle shift occurred.
While no one was looking, Little White's gaze flicked toward Damien. For a moment, her calm expression wavered ever so slightly. In the depths of her eyes, a peculiar gleam flickered to life—strange, quiet, almost reverent.
Then, just as swiftly as it had come, she turned her head away, her face returning to its usual carefree mask.
But Damien noticed.
Though her movement was nearly imperceptible, it didn't escape his perception.
