"I'm sorry for not coming to see you," Rachel said, her voice soft but steady as she stepped closer.
I tilted my head in confusion. "Hmm? Don't worry about it."
"No, I do," she insisted, and her hand lightly gripped my sleeve, halting any further argument. Her sapphire eyes met mine, and for a moment, I wondered if this was how angels apologized—earnestly, as if the fate of the universe depended on it.
"You're a good friend of mine, so… I'm sorry for behaving like that," she said. Then her face broke into a bright, radiant smile, the kind that could stop wars or melt glaciers. With her golden hair catching the light just so, she looked almost ethereal. "Please think of me as your precious friend, Arthur."
I blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sheer sincerity in her voice. "...I do," I managed to say, though my throat felt oddly tight.
