He had just stepped out of the shower, his hair still damp and clinging softly to his forehead. From this angle, the curve of his high nose bridge and the slight tilt of his eyes revealed irises the color of storm-washed glass, clear, cool, and quietly captivating.
A faint smile played at the corners of his lips. For once, his mood seemed unusually light.
Not far from the deck, inside one of the cabins, Bonnie Wesley lay on a bed in complete darkness. The only illumination came from the moonlight shimmering over the ocean, casting faint silver patterns across the floorboards.
Outside, the sea whispered against the hull, each gentle wave only emphasizing the eerie stillness within.
In the low light, Bonnie stirred. Her fingers twitched, and a sharp pain throbbed behind her forehead. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
