"Are you okay?" Vesta's voice was low, deliberate, as though she was trying not to startle him. "Did you have a nightmare?"
Sezel blinked and looked forward. She was sitting right in front of him, so close he could see the faint reflection of light trapped in her ruby eyes. It was already morning, yet the thunderclouds still roared, and the patter of rain had only grown dense overnight.
He dragged a hand through his sweat-matted white hair. His shirt clung wetly to his skin from how much he had been sweating. "Yeah… something like that," he muttered.
"Here." Vesta reached for a water bottle and held it out.
He took it, the plastic cool and slick against his palm, and pressed it to his lips. Half the bottle was gone before he lowered his hand again, the taste of stale, stored water trickling down his throat like a blessing.
