Mia couldn't feel her legs.
The moment their lips separated, all sound in the library fell into an eerie, brutal silence that seemed to drag her heartbeat against her ribs. She didn't move. He didn't move. Their breaths mingled between them, the air still charged, sizzling with an energy she wished she could pretend didn't exist.
What have I done?
Her chest rose and fell too fast.
Leon, on the other hand, simply stared at her. His eyes were wide, not with regret, not with shock, but with something unbearably quiet. Something that terrified her more than anger ever could—need. Raw, unfiltered, almost hungry. She looked away, clutching the ends of her sleeves so tight her nails dug into her skin.
They didn't speak.
They sat back down slowly, as if afraid one wrong move would make the library collapse around them. The wooden chair creaked beneath her as she eased into it, hands shaking slightly, refusing to look at him again.
