Courtyard of Anticipation
Anna stood stock still, her hand suspended mid-air as if between two realms. A furrow was etched onto her forehead, a flash of puzzlement crossing her eyes as she looked at Victor. "You mean… you don't know?" The words were soft, laced with incredulity, almost delicate.
Victor shifted restlessly, scratching the back of his neck, the gesture giving away a tension he attempted—and failed—at concealing. A nervous burst of laughter escaped him, staccato and uncertain. "Uh… no, actually." His voice was weighed with awkward uncertainty, and for an instant, his eyes dropped to the floor, as though seeking out some phantom answer.
