Chapter 102

• After the music faded, we did not turn the lights on.
• We let the dusk settle in around us, filling the apartment with the kind of blue-grey that made the world feel softer. Julian opened the window a little wider. The breeze that came through smelled faintly of jasmine and something urban, like distant concrete that had finally cooled.
• We cooked together, not because we were hungry, but because the ritual of it felt grounding. I pulled ingredients from the fridge without checking what matched. Julian chopped vegetables with a rhythm that didn’t follow any recipe. I sautéed onions until they were golden, then added them to whatever he had started without question.