Blanche's POV
With that, I turned my back to Vincent.
Vincent froze, clearly thrown off guard.
Everything had been normal just moments before... he appeared puzzled.
Vincent's chest seemed to tighten. He settled beside the bed and pressed again, "Are you sick?"
I didn't face him, but I answered anyway, "No, I'm just exhausted."
My tone had grown distant once more, matching how things were when we first crossed paths.
Vincent kept his gaze fixed on me, unable to tear it away.
He persistently watched the back of my head, as though staring hard enough might unlock my thoughts.
Yet no matter how he tried, he couldn't decode me.
'Is she still hung up on Zain?' Vincent wondered, unease creeping through him.
The moment that notion hit him, I suddenly spun around to meet his eyes.
The small bedside lamp cast a soft glow, making my face appear blurred and mysterious in the shadows.
