Like a river, silence flowed between the two of them as they waited, together.
It was only in the absence of the others that Jonah realized that he had actually liked it when there were others to see what was going on with the war. Their comments, reactions, and whisperings were all things that he had relied on to escape the spiraling pit of fear that had almost swallowed him every time something unexpected had happened.
Now, it was just the two of them, and Jonah hated it. He hated the way she was staring at the center of the room, waiting for the flower of destruction she had planted to bloom. He hated the way a small smile was still playing on her face as she knew that her move was truly novel. He hated the buzz of conversation from the remnants of the third wave who were standing outside, waiting for her permission to enter, and above all… he hated her wit that might just have reversed the position of the Church.
