Trixy's Pov
The dim golden glow of the ballroom chandeliers haunted me as I made my quiet exit. The music, the laughter, the shuffling of feet against the polished marble floor—nothing of it was really gone; all of it was there meandering faintly behind like a distant memory. I kept telling myself that I just needed a moment of rest from the noise and from Zyron's piercing eyes that still burnt at the back of my head since our dance.
Inside, my chest was still shaking with the tremble that came from the whole event—the song, the way his eyes looked through me, and the way I had deceived myself while grinning through each note. Actually, my heart couldn't let go of its wild pace, not even when I moved away from there.
Under my breath, I uttered the word "Bathroom," almost with the intention to make myself believe that the only reason for the trip was to my makeup and that nothing deeper was unraveling inside me.
