After Madeline's words, a long silence enveloped the hallway, stretching out to every corner. If a pin had fallen, it would have sounded deafening.
"I trust you," Draven uttered wistfully, blinking as if to shake himself out of a trance. "I'm just scared that you might leave," he finally admitted, his voice thick with emotion.
While every fiber of Madeline wanted to reach out to him, hold him, and reassure him that she would never leave, she remained rooted to the spot against the wall, waiting for him to continue.
"May we go in?" Draven asked tentatively, biting his lip afterward.
Madeline shook her head. "There will be no need for that, I'm afraid" Her tone was cold, driven by a mix of jealousy and pain.
"Okay." Draven's gaze fixed on the floor. After a moment, he looked up at her, her expression still composed. "I don't remember much of my past," he began earnestly. "Sarah, she was the woman I was in love with."
