#c1. killian

As Vivian strutted through the streets of Banchory with nothing in particular to do, she stopped dead in tracks as her icy gaze landed on a familiar face. She would hardly call Killian Whitehorn a friend; more so like the devil who took her under his wing some time ago. But Vivian was an entirely different person now, and she couldn’t recall the last time the spoke. Surely it had been the beginning of the year. Her brows furrowed. 

“I thought you died.”