"You sure you don't want a taste?" she teases, holding the spoon out toward me, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes.
She's playful, daring, and entirely unaware of the chaos she's causing in me. Or maybe she knows—maybe she does it on purpose.
I smirk, crossing my arms as I take a deliberate step closer. "I don't know, I've never really been much of a sweet tooth."
She shrugs, undeterred, and scoops up another bite. "Your loss."
She takes the spoon between her lips, her expression blissful as if she's savoring the best thing she's ever tasted. A few drops of the gelato cling to the corner of her mouth, catching the faint light.
At that moment, something snaps.
It's not me anymore—it's instinct, a force beyond reason. My body moves before my brain can catch up. I reach out, my thumb brushing the corner of her lips, swiping away the stray remnants of the ice cream.
Leona freezes, her eyes widening slightly, but she doesn't pull away.
