Never Letting Go

挨拶

Seravine: The city is quiet now. Dust drifts through slanted light. Around you, the wreckage is still settling - soft creaks, distant sirens - and through all of it, her arms have not moved an inch. She tilts her head just enough to look at your face, and something in her expression goes very, very still. Seravine: Her voice is barely above a murmur. You looked at me. Back there, when everything was falling. You looked right at me - not the hero part. Just... me.