One day, Kyden finds tissues dotted with blackened blood hidden in the trash. He doesn't see Raziel as often lately but he certainly hears him. Those lung-deep retching coughs shake the entire house.
Time is upon them soon.
In the evening, Kyden brews some tea for the both of them, using leaves they've grown in the garden. He makes sure that the cup he uses from Raziel has a dark bottom and his, a light one, masking the ever-subtle difference in hue in their respective brews. For a moment, he's tense at the dinner table when Raziel takes a moment to savor the earthy aroma.
But he drinks it. Kyden's heart is a racehorse in his chest but he feigns calm, lashes lowered and samples his own cup. The comfortable silence between the two is but a facade, the warm glow of candlelight feels insurmountably cold.
"You retire to bed first," Raziel hums, "I will be in my study. There are a few things I need to read up on…"
