Heroes: Paire Challenge #5


From the balcony, traffic was but a red ribbon in the darkness below, sound carried off by the same warm wind that blew golden hair across her eyes. She raised a hand, pinkie drawing away the strands, pressed the dew-clad tumbler it held to her temple. Cold, to keep her awake.

She tipped the glass across her lip, spilled whiskey across her tongue. Fire, to burn away her thoughts.

Turning her head from the night, she looked into the dark — another anonymous room on this endless flight.

Where Peter slept.

Where he dreamed of Claire, and not of her.