The door creaked softly as Naevora stepped onto the rooftop, letting it swing shut behind her with a dull click.
The cool night air brushed against her skin, tugging lightly at her loosely tied hair, carrying the faint scent of rain-soaked concrete and distant cherry blossoms.
She then glanced at Brandon lying on the bed.
Naevora narrowed her eyes, then exhaled with a tired sigh. "Brat," she muttered as she stepped forward.
She is wearing a dark tank top and a pair of loose shorts, her toned figure catching the glow from the light fixture above "You good?"
Brandon slowly turned his head at the sound of her voice.
His hair was tousled from lying down as he replied "Yeah…?"
Naevora clicked her tongue quietly and scratched her neck.
She isn't great at comforting people.
She'd never needed anyone to comfort her, and she never thought she'd be in a position to do the same for someone else.
She already heard everything from Yverine and she immediately came here to meet him.
