Tension

Cato glanced over, head throbbing, watching the beautiful woman frustratedly flipping through countless pages of old tomes whose meanings lived in the past. Her hair was bound in tight braids, restricting its flow downward, highlighting the tight yet comfortable traveler’s clothes she opted for rather than her well-worn but well-kempt noble’s attire.

“I’m sorry,” Cato mumbled after awhile. Alesia glanced up at him briefly and then back to her work. He gazed at the ground and massaged his temples in dreadful silence.

“For what?” she finally responded.

He shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know."

“Then don’t apologize.”