Sitting on the floor, Zoe Pierce offered an awkward greeting. Miles Sherman's expression didn't falter as he listened; he simply nodded and said, "Hello."
'So serious, so formal.'
'She didn't even know what to say next.'
Miles Sherman walked over from the doorway and extended his hand to her. Flattered, Zoe Pierce placed her hand in his. Miles Sherman pulled her up and guided her to a soft chair on the side, meant for resting.
Zoe Pierce looked even more disheveled now than he had ever seen her.
Sweat soaked through her ink-black hair, and large, bead-like drops trickled down her cheeks and forehead. The damp, sticky sweat made her clothes cling to her body.
Due to over-training, a rouge-like flush colored her fair cheeks. Her small lips were a deep red, and she gasped for breath like a fish deprived of oxygen.
