Hearing her question, Cyrus' lips parted slowly, as if to allow words to escape, but he said nothing.
He didn't know how to respond to her; he had never felt so speechless or conflicted in his life as he did at the moment.
The whistle of the cold wind could be heard, as could their breathing, which was lighter than it had been.
Cyrus rubbed his forehead against hers and whispered, "You are weak because the sea of blood drained your energy. You should rest; I will bring you dinner."
With a heavy sigh, he drew away, and Sage slowly released his wrists, allowing him to move away from her completely.
Cyrus could tell she was disappointed. After all, it appeared that they had a relationship, and it was being built with crumbled pieces.
He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him and relaxing his back against the door.
