She stopped right in front of him.
Close.
Looking down at him in the chair, the city glowing in the windows behind her, both belts hanging from her hands.
The room was very quiet.
He looked at the belts.
He looked at her face.
He looked at the belts again.
"Soorin," he said.
The careful version of her name. The one where he was asking for information without letting on how much he needed it.
She tilted her head.
"Yes?" she said.
He swallowed.
His hands, which had been so carefully placed on his knees the whole time, tightened slightly.
She caught that.
She caught everything tonight. It felt like she could see all of him at once, every small tell, every controlled breath, and the effort it was taking him to just sit there and wait for her.
That effort alone did something to her she wasn't going to say out loud.
"Are those," he started.
"Yes," she said.
"Both of them?"
"I found two."
He looked at them again.
