The storm had finally broken.Morning light dripped through the clouds, thin and fragile, painting the lab windows gold instead of silver for the first time in days.Hana stood in line at the campus café, half-awake, half-haunted by the memory of the vial still hidden in her coat pocket.
The line moved slowly. The air smelled of burnt espresso and wet pavement.Normal things. Safe things.But the world had stopped feeling normal since the night she met her.
She took her coffee black, as always, and stepped outside. The sun was weak — the kind that shimmered off puddles but couldn't quite dry them.She sat beneath an awning, opened her notebook, and pretended to read.Her eyes kept drifting to the reflection in her cup — waiting, maybe, for another impossible shadow.
"Mind if I sit here?"
The voice made her look up.Lilith stood there, dressed in a borrowed uniform — black hoodie, white collar peeking through, hair still slightly damp from the rain. Her crimson eyes looked softer in daylight, almost brown. Almost human.
Hana blinked, unsure if she should run or start asking questions. "You—" she began.
Lilith smiled faintly. "Me."
The chair scraped softly as she sat down across from Hana, hands wrapped around a steaming mug. "You didn't scream last night. That makes you interesting."
"I don't know if that's the word I'd use," Hana said, trying to keep her tone even. "How did you find me?"
Lilith tilted her head. "You left the light on."
Hana frowned. "In the lab?"
"No. Here." Lilith tapped her chest. "You were curious. I felt it."
It was such a strange thing to say — so casual, so confident — that Hana almost laughed. "You make it sound like a psychic experiment."
"Maybe it is," Lilith said softly, sipping her drink. "You study blood, don't you? You must know how alive it really is."
"I know what it's made of."
"But not what it remembers."
The words sent a chill down Hana's spine. She looked at Lilith — truly looked — and realized that even in the sunlight, her skin caught light differently, like porcelain warmed from within. The shadow beneath her chair was faint, thinner than it should have been.
"Who are you really?" Hana asked.
Lilith smiled into her coffee. "Someone trying to stay alive in a world that doesn't forgive my kind."
Hana leaned forward. "And what kind is that?"
"Hungry," Lilith said simply.
A silence fell between them, heavy but not uncomfortable.The café chatter faded, the breeze carried the smell of rain and roasted beans. Hana watched a drop of sunlight slide across Lilith's fingers — and for a moment, it burned faintly before vanishing.
Lilith didn't flinch. She only met Hana's eyes. "See? Still a bad idea."
"You shouldn't be outside," Hana whispered.
"Neither should you," Lilith replied, smiling. "You're too close to the dark now."
A crow cawed somewhere overhead. Hana glanced at the sky; when she looked back, Lilith was gone.Only the faintest trace of steam from her untouched mug lingered across the table.
Hana's hand trembled as she reached for it.The coffee was still warm.And floating near the surface, swirling like cream in the black liquid — a single, glowing silver drop.