The waves below crashed softly, steady and distant — like a sound from another world. Velithra gripped the railing, her fingers brushing against the rusted metal.
Kai hadn't looked away. He just watched her, expression unreadable, eyes too calm for how much they seemed to hold.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice low. "You said you understand."
Kai was quiet for a long moment, the wind catching in his hair. When he finally spoke, it wasn't with the confidence everyone else saw in him — it was slower, quieter, as if he was choosing each word carefully.
"People see what they want to see," he said. "They look at someone and build a version that makes sense to them. It's easier that way. Safer."
Velithra's chest tightened. "You're saying that's what they did to me."
He nodded. "And to me."
Something in his tone made her turn. His jaw was set, eyes fixed on the horizon as if the truth lived somewhere out there.
She didn't ask him what had happened — not yet. The question sat on her tongue, but it didn't feel like something she had the right to touch.
Instead, she said softly, "You don't talk about yourself much."
He huffed a small breath, the ghost of a laugh. "Neither do you."
The silence stretched again, but this one didn't hurt. It wrapped around them, fragile but warm — a moment that felt undeserved, yet real.
Velithra's gaze fell to her hands. "When people talk about me, it's like I'm not even there. Like they're describing a ghost that wears my skin."
Kai turned his head slightly, eyes flicking toward her. "You ever tried stopping them?"
She shook her head. "I used to. But after a while, you just… stop fighting. It's easier to disappear than to keep proving you exist."
For the first time, something flickered across Kai's face — anger, maybe, or something close to it. "They don't deserve that kind of power over you."
Velithra met his gaze. "And what do I do? Scream? Break down? They'd just watch."
"You could stop pretending," he said quietly. "You could be angry."
"I don't know how anymore," she whispered.
Kai's expression softened, the tension in his shoulders loosening just slightly. "Then I'll remind you."
The words slipped out like a promise — one that made her heart stumble and her throat tighten.
She looked away, blinking hard against the sting behind her eyes. "You talk like you can fix me."
He smiled faintly — sad, almost bitter. "No. I just don't want you to stay broken."
Velithra didn't respond. She couldn't. The sea below roared louder, the wind colder against her skin. And in that quiet space between them, she realized something terrifying —
He wasn't trying to save her. He was just trying to see her.
And somehow, that hurt even more.