Gloria's gaze, once locked onto Christon's enigmatic eyes, slowly descended to her wrist, the site of the recent encounter. Questions lingered on her lips, unspoken inquiries that sought answers to the inexplicable moments that had unfolded.
Before she could articulate her thoughts, Christon's voice, now void of its earlier dark undertones, intervened, casting a calm over the brewing storm of her confusion.
"You should rest for a while," he suggested, his words threading through the air before she could muster the words forming in her mind. His tone, though composed, carried an undertone of concern.
Gloria, caught between the echoes of vulnerability and the mystique of the encounter, nodded though still caught up in confusion. As Christon gracefully rose from his seat, a fleeting moment of unreadable expression crossed his features, leaving Gloria to wonder about the intricacies concealed beneath his poised exterior.
