Hadrian approached Alia, stopping a metre from her.
Though he was sure she'd been aware of him, she hadn't turned.
Her long black hair wafted to the wind.
Letting out a sigh, and with a pang of guilt in his heart, Hadrian took a few more steps, sitting down on the grass to Alia's left.
They didn't speak for a while, both their eyes fixed on the endless stretch of water that connects with the blue sky at a far off distance.
Alia turned to Hadrian and studied him for a moment with a slight sense of familiarity.
"Who are you?" She asked.
A distant sadness travelled through Hadrian, but he wasn't surprised by the question.
The last thing Alia should remember was that night he'd turned them into vessels.
He'd practised what to say, but found himself at a loss of words.
"Hadrian," he said with a stiffness to him.
There was a stretch of silence before Alia nodded perceptively.
