As the night wore on, the alcohol flowed like water between the two individuals.
Empty bottles began to pile on the table like trophies of a shared battlefield, each one marking another hour of laughter, banter, or silence. The weight of Cain's return, the truths he had unveiled, and the duel looming ahead hung in the room like a distant thundercloud. But for now, they both allowed themselves to forget.
Anna leaned further into the couch, cheeks faintly flushed, hair beginning to slip from its usually neat ponytail. She cradled her bottle lazily, eyes watching Cain with a level of scrutiny that only came from knowing someone a little too well.
"You're different," Anna said after a while, her voice quieter now. "Not in a bad way. Just... not the Cain I remember."
Cain didn't answer immediately. He stared at the bottle in his hand, turning it slowly as though the label might offer him something useful to say. "Yeah," he said eventually. "Part of me didn't make it out of the Grove."
Being stabbed in the back had shattered any sense of trust that he had for anyone. Even now he kept a vigilant guard against Anna. His Gluttony skill was being activated each time he took a swig of alcohol, removing any sense of inebriation he might have felt otherwise.
He knew Anna would sense something wasn't right but he didn't care. Until his and his mentor's revenge was settled, he needed to keep a clear mind.
Anna giggled suddenly, the sound hiccuping out of her like it surprised even her. She leaned back into the couch, stretching her legs out and letting her head loll to the side. Her bottle tipped and nearly spilled, but she caught it in time, laughing again.
"You know," she said, voice slow and slurred, "you've gotten kind of hot since the last time I saw you."
Cain didn't move. He kept his eyes on the table, letting her words hang in the air without reaction.
Anna shifted on the couch, dragging herself upright with clumsy determination. "No, seriously. I mean it. That whole broody thing you've got going on now? Kind of works for you."
Cain still didn't look at her. He stood up instead, setting his empty bottle gently on the table. "You're drunk."
She smirked, swaying slightly as she tried to rise. "So what? We're alone, right? And it's not like either of us are going to remember this in the morning."
Cain turned then, meeting her gaze with eyes that had lost every trace of warmth. "That's not who I am, Anna."
She blinked, thrown off for a moment, then tried again, reaching out toward him with a slow, fumbling hand. "I'm just saying... maybe we could forget everything for a little longer."
He stepped back out of reach. "No."
The word was firm, final. Not angry. Not cruel. Just absolute.
Anna's hand dropped, and she stared at him for a moment, her lips parted like she wanted to argue but couldn't quite find the will. Her cheeks were fully flushed now, and her eyes were glassy.
Cain grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and handed it to her. "Get some rest."
She didn't respond, just stared at the blanket like she didn't understand what it was for. Cain moved toward the door, pausing just long enough to glance over his shoulder.
"I'm going out for a bit. Lock the door behind me."
Anna didn't answer. She just sank back into the couch, curling around the bottle in her arms like it might still have something left to give her.
Cain stepped into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. The night air was cool, and he let it clear his head as he walked away. Whatever warmth the room had held earlier was gone now, and he didn't plan on returning until the sun came up.
"It's going to be a long night."
The door clicked shut behind Cain, the soft sound quickly swallowed by the silence of the room.
For a few long seconds, Anna remained curled up on the couch, eyes half-lidded, the bottle cradled loosely in her arms. Then, with a quiet sigh, she sat up straight. The drunken sway was gone from her posture. Her gaze sharpened, and the lazy flush on her cheeks looked more like heat than alcohol.
She reached up and tightened her ponytail, smoothing a few strands back into place. The air still smelled faintly of liquor and smoke, but the atmosphere had shifted completely.
"I knew he was hiding something," she muttered.
Her fingers tapped idly on the neck of the empty bottle. She had watched Cain carefully all night. His smile never reached his eyes, and even the alcohol hadn't softened the edges in his voice. He had been distant, cautious, like every word was weighed before he gave it. Like he was constantly listening for a threat.
Anna chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. She didn't know what it was, not exactly, but something had changed in him beyond the surface. She felt it in the way he moved. She saw it in the way he didn't look at her.
Still, she leaned back with a small shrug, pulling a throw pillow into her lap. "Fine. Keep your secrets, Cain. It's not like I don't have mine."
There were things she couldn't tell him either. Things that had nothing to do with trust. Things she had buried a long time ago and wasn't ready to dig up just because he came back from the Grove with a haunted stare and a sharper jawline.
Her pout deepened. She grabbed the pillow tighter and narrowed her eyes at the empty chair across from her.
"Didn't even glance at me," she said. "I was practically throwing myself at him."
She fell back against the cushions with a dramatic sigh, legs kicking slightly like a child sulking after being ignored. Her voice dropped to a grumble.
"Seriously. He could've at least looked flustered. Or awkward. Or something."
The silence offered no comfort. She stared at the ceiling for a while, expression unreadable.
Cain might not have taken the bait, but she hadn't given up. Not because she needed his attention…but because it seemed like a challenge.
She rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket over her and burying her face in the pillow.
"Stupid Cain," she mumbled. "Next time, he's not getting off that easy."