POV: Aurora
When Dante returns to the apartment, I sense him before I see him.
I'm walking slowly down the hallway, barefoot, just so I don't keep counting the tiles in the room. The air here smells of disinfectant, metal, and, very faintly, him.
The elevator opens and he appears. Dark suit, loosened tie, expression of "I just fought with people who wear expensive clothes."
"You should be in bed," he says as soon as he sees me.
"If I stay in there another minute, I'll eat the wall," I reply. "I don't think the doctor wants that in her report."
The corner of his mouth moves a little, but he doesn't quite smile. He looks tense.
"How did it go?" I ask, bluntly. "The meeting."
He stares at me, as if assessing how much to say. Then he opens the door to my room and gestures for me to go in first.
I go in. I sit on the bed and cross my legs. He closes the door and stands leaning against the wall, as if he needs something solid behind him.
