Broken Wings
Riko glares a second longer—Red touches a nerve—but then he turns and storms out.
...
The city hums below, lights flickering like dying stars. Red leans against the ledge, cigarette burning slow between his fingers, jaw tight. His eyes are hard, lost in thought — the kind of anger that simmers quiet and deep.
The metal door creaks open behind him.
Ivy says softly, “You always come up here when you’re pissed?”
Red doesn’t turn. Just exhales smoke, slow and quiet.
“Only when I need to breathe.”
Ivy walks over, her arms folded, the wind tugging at the strands of her hair. She leans beside him, not touching, just close enough to share the silence.
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