A silent moment stretches, looming ominously. I feel his fingers twitch, sense the shift in his mood as the fight leaves him.
Muscles slacken, his hand falls, and he steps back, but I can still sense him, mere feet away. "Who are you?" I whisper. The hush fights back, swallowing my words greedily so my voice is a hollow echo of itself.
"Nobody," he answers.
Inch by inch, I turn and lean against the railing, my hands grasping the bar beside my hips. I study him, my head tilting as I begin to piece together planes and curves into memories.
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