With that said, I let my body sink into the cool grass, lying flat on my back as the night stretched endlessly above me. The sky was a sea of ink.
The heavy scent of flowers filled the air—sweet, thick, almost intoxicating. A few bloomed beside me, their petals delicate and glowing faintly under the silver moonlight. They resembled lilies, their fragrance eerily familiar yet just foreign enough to remind me that this world was not my own.
I plucked one absentmindedly, twirling it between my fingers, letting its scent calm the embers of irritation smoldering inside me. Meanwhile, Priscilla sat before me, looking absolutely miserable. Tear-streaked, trembling, and utterly wretched.
And that, of course, was absolutely perfect.
