"Is it?" he says without really thinking, his eyes flickering to the shafts of sunlight filtering through the shuttered window. He sighs, unclenching one hand to press his palm into his eye. "Sorry. I didn't realize it was that late already."

He should have - his sense of time has always been impeccable, unmatched even by Sensei's. This is stupid. If Monet saw just how out of sorts her disappearance had left him, she would never let him live it down.

Just calling her name to mind almost makes him wince. Women leaving scars in the places he thought he'd protected... he's really a sucker for it, isn't he? But that's unfair to Monet. If she'd had the choice, there's no doubt in his mind that she'd never intend for him to be hurt.