Mathilda
"What's going on here?" The authoritative voice of this man startles me, making my veins tighten as warmth envelopes me.
Cahill.
He's here.
Slowly, I tip my head up to the giant stairs and I see him.
Jaw clenched, hard masculine mouth in a scowl, and eyes so eerily blue that it literally pierces through my soul.
He's as tall as ever. Seems to have lost a few pounds and there's this disturbing aura surrounding him. His silver-golden hair looks messy like he's run a finger through it a couple of times.
He's wearing a gray hoodie and shorts, and I can see his slightly hairy legs that are clad in flip-flops. And I pause to wonder if this is really Cahill Nolan or someone else. Because he's indeed changed. Looking like a lost boy with a few days old stubble. But God, he's so handsome and young like this.
