Erin shivered. There was a foreboding feeling she would experience those moments again soon. The woman today didn't seem to be that type of person though. Erin began to search for the document that her father wanted her to get.
Is it the sound of cars below? Or is it the sound of my heart beating? Is it the sound of the cold winter wind? Or is it the sound of my blood rushing? Is it the light from the stars and the moon? Or is it the light from the buildings and street lamps?
As she turned her gaze towards the figure seated behind her, Suyin's cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment, her heart hammering in her chest at the memory of Qin Fuhua's closeness.
She should have expected it, but it still stops her dead when she opens the door to the room. There are two single beds. In one of which a filthy, tired halfling is sleeping with his back to the room. Her whip is resting on the nightstand, and the gun is nowhere to be seen. This could be her chance. She walks up to the small table and reaches for the weapon. Then, she's seized by a deep sadness, the sad knowledge that if she does this, she'll not be able to see his face again. That should be an easy call. As easy as when she cut off her parents. Yet the decision hollows her out and her hand stops, hovering right above the handle.
