The two are loitering in a half-empty cafe when Kane notices: the early evening sunlight peeks through the window, shining on David’s face. It drags like a golden veil, catching on the man’s fine features and drawing his gaze. It’s a tableau he could almost call radiant.
There’s a pang in Kane’s heart, a flush crawling up his face with a feeling he doesn’t have a name for yet. His head stirs with the beginning of an answer.
As the light sinks below the window, he discards the half-finished thought, though David’s sunlit image stays stubbornly burned into his memory.
There’s a pang in Kane’s heart, a flush crawling up his face with a feeling he doesn’t have a name for yet. His head stirs with the beginning of an answer.
As the light sinks below the window, he discards the half-finished thought, though David’s sunlit image stays stubbornly burned into his memory.
