They don't know what to say, but there is the unspoken agreement that neither is willing to lose contact.

With an unsure smile, she hands him her phone. "Your number?"

Still reeling from the surprise of finding someone he had assumed gone, he absently punches it in, and when he hands her phone back, their fingers accidentally brush.

Reiryoku sparks against his skin, and, for the first time in centuries, his own power rises in defense.

"Oh!" She yanks her hand back, guilt spiking her scent. "I'm sorry."

He stares at his skin, perversely missing the sting. "It is fine."