You turn. He's closer than you expected.

A beat of silence hangs between you. He doesn't blink.

Before you can answer, a second shadow falls over you. You glance to your side, and there he is—tall, broad, almost unnervingly quiet. A hood shadows his face, but his eyes are steady. He stops a few feet away, arms loose at his sides, watching you like he's trying to read something behind your expression.

The word lingers. You feel the weight of both their attention now, pinned like a specimen under glass.

The silence stretches, taut as a wire. Neither of them moves to let you leave.