Silas reveled in Esme's flustered state. The playful glint in his eyes intensified as he surveyed the oblivious office workers crammed into the elevator. Keeping his expression carefully neutral, he leaned closer, his knuckles trailing down her arm in a slow, deliberate caress.
Esme froze, her body tensing into a rigid statue. Every muscle screamed with tension, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes darted around the elevator like a trapped animal, fearing any of the occupants might turn and witness what Silas was doing.
Silas, expertly ignoring the bustle around them, continued his teasing. He found a perverse pleasure in her discomfort. Esme, finally reaching the breaking point, raised a hand with surprising speed and swatted his teasing hand away. She glared at him, who scowled at her.
"Stop it," she mouthed.
He simply shrugged in a dismissive gesture. However, he didn't repeat his actions. He simply stood there innocently, looking ahead.
