Caspian stood in his study room, eyeing the evening sky in silence.
Watching the change of color on the horizon, now a touch of fading orange over a line of distant rooftops as the first dot of stars began to appear above.
There, Caspian waited while he listened to the slow tick of the clock, allowing him the illusion of slowing down time.
Every second preciously passed by as Miss Ivelle lay unconscious, trapped in a fever dream. Whispering in fear that she was not a monster and that she didn't know.
What she didn't know, Caspian might never find out either, because he didn't have the heart to witness her in such a state.
As much as he wanted to stay by her side, hold her hand, and dry the sweat off her brow, he couldn't.
Both because he was a coward, confronted by foreign feelings, and because it would expose too much of what he felt inside.
Caspian didn't want people to make baseless speculations when he was doing it out of gratitude.
