Isabella felt Cyrus's gaze on her before she even turned. It was subtle—he never looked at her with the brazen weight of someone who wanted to be noticed. His stare was always quiet, almost reverent, like he was tracing the lines of her face for memory's sake. When she finally lifted her head to catch him, she did so with a smile still curving her lips, the kind of smile she couldn't quite suppress even if she tried.
"Cyrus?" she called softly, tilting her head as her voice dropped to that gentle lilt she used when she was trying not to disturb anyone else. His stillness made her uneasy. "Is anything the matter?"
For a heartbeat, he didn't move, only blinked as though pulled back from some faraway thought. Then, the haze cleared. He focused on her again, lips tugging upward with his usual calm smile.
