Vera's purple hair clung limply to her shoulders, strands damp with sweat from a long, grueling day. Her skin gleamed under the room's golden light, the sheen highlighting the toned contours of her body—the lean muscle of her arms, the subtle curve of her waist, the strength in her legs.
Exhaustion was carved into her features, her sharp eyes dulled with fatigue, but when she spotted Syn with the tray of food, her expression softened. A faint smile tugged at her lips, tired but warm.
"Oh, you're finally eating? Nice," she murmured, crossing the room, her boots scuffing softly against the floor.
"I'm still not talking to you," Syn shot back, his tone clipped as he scooped a bite into his mouth, refusing to meet her gaze.
Vera's smile faltered, but only for a second. Then she shrugged, unfazed, as her fingers went to the fastenings of her uniform. "Why not? Aster's just as responsible—she was sitting on you, remember?"
