When he finally pulled back just an inch his eyes were dark, wild, searching mine like he expected me to shove him away.
I didn't. I reached up, cupped his face with both hands, thumbs brushing his cheekbones, and whispered, "is everything okay?"
(3rd person POV)
The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing Leonel's ragged, Cassian's unsteady. Moonlight spilled through the half-drawn curtains, painting silver stripes across the bed where they sat tangled in the aftermath of something neither of them had planned but both had needed.
Leonel hovered just above Cassian, his dark eyes searching the younger man's face like he was looking for an answer written in the freckles across his nose or the slight tremor in his lower lip. Cassian didn't flinch. Didn't look away. Just held his gaze, hands still cupping Leonel's cheeks like he was afraid the moment would dissolve if he let go.
Leonel exhaled long and slow, like he'd been holding his breath for weeks. Maybe he had.
