Phoebe's POV
I could feel my mind drifting when Harold shifted closer, his intense stare pulling me back to the moment.
Under his burning gaze, I had to force myself to focus. My eyelashes flickered as I managed to ask, "What's wrong?"
We were so close now that our breathing seemed to match perfectly.
The evening breeze carried hints of osmanthus, brushing a loose strand of hair away from my face.
There was nothing between us anymore. Our eyes, our lips, even the warm air we exhaled seemed to dance across each other's skin.
This feels way too intense, I told myself.
But somehow, my heart began racing with an unexpected thrill. I blinked hard, trying to look away.
Harold moved first though.
He pulled back and stepped aside, flashing me that practiced, charming smile.
"Nothing," he said smoothly. "Just figured you might be upset, so I wanted to stick around in case you needed consoling."
