Stolen Shadow

The wind off the avenue tasted of rain and iron, but the cold hardly registered. A shadow in crimson had slipped through the belfry arches just moments ago, vanishing into the fog before the cathedral bell could chime. A quiet, breathless kiss still lingered against the night chill, sharp and unmistakable. Looking down at my right sai, I found the mark he had left behind—a slender crimson cord woven into a tight, deliberate knot around the steel guard. I drew the blade across the balustrade, testing the balance of the new thread. Two shadows claiming one skyline.