The room was soaked in shadows, lit only by the faintest silver glow of the moon slipping through the curtains. The sound of gentle waves from the distance whispered through the open window.
Alexander sat on the center sofa like a silent monarch, legs spread slightly, elbows resting on his thighs, fingers steepled beneath his chin. The dim lighting carved out the sharp lines of his face, casting his eyes into unreadable darkness.
His coat was draped across the back of the couch, his shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing tense forearms as if he had just returned from war and in many ways, he had.
War against jealousy.
War against himself.
And in front of him stood Sir Sparkleton, glowing red eyes blinking in steady rhythm, his little metallic body standing at perfect attention, unsure if this moment was his execution or promotion.
Alexander's voice broke the silence, smooth and cold.
"I saw your history talk with Lilith."
Sir Sparkleton's mechanical face brightened with pride.
