Kiara's gaze sharpened, the playful glint fading as she studied him.
"Changed your mind?" Her tone shifted, concern creeping in where mischief had been, her eyes narrowing as she crossed the room in a few swift steps.
She sat beside him on the bed without hesitation, the mattress dipping under her weight, her scent—rose and iron, faint but unmistakable—wrapping around him like a familiar embrace.
Her thigh brushed his, the contact grounding yet electrifying, stirring the heat he always felt in her presence.
"What's wrong?" she asked softly, her voice stripped of its usual teasing edge, replaced by a quiet sincerity that caught him off guard.
He didn't answer, couldn't find the words.
Kiara's arms slid around him, pulling him into her warmth, her cheek pressing against his shoulder.
Her dark hair spilled across him like silk, soft and cool against his skin, and her breath was warm against his neck.
