I look at Roman seating opposite me, his expression carved from stone, his demeanor cold and detached. It's a sight I never wanted to see, a reminder of just how far we've drifted. The years and memories between us feel like distant echoes now, fading with every second of his silence. Still, even now, even after all that's happened, it hurts. The thought stings, settling deep in my chest like a wound that refuses to heal.
I force a sad smile, trying to reach him in some small way. "Always so mean, Roman," I say, my voice softer than I intend. But he doesn't respond. His gaze doesn't waver, doesn't warm. There's nothing there but an emptiness that wasn't there before, and it feels like a blade twisting in my heart. I search his eyes, hoping to see even a hint of the man who once treated me like family, like a brother, but all I find is a wall of ice.
