Irene had only just gotten herself into trouble for jumping to such a ridiculous assumption about her Commander. Yet, as she stood quietly at the top of the stairs, her back pressed against the wall so that no one would be able to see her, she was writing a long narrative in her mind over what she was bearing witness to.
She had never been desired and couldn't imagine how it felt, nor had she desired anyone else, but that didn't stop believing that's what she was seeing. Desire.
It wasn't only the desire of the waitress, but the Commander meeting the woman's gaze so easily as if it were nothing to him. Perhaps he desired her as well.
Irene didn't know him well enough to be privy to the internal struggle that was actually pulling at his heart in that moment.
She felt like she couldn't breathe as she watched the scene unfold.
