Benjamin's tone was as flat as a plain of cold, dry snow. "Where'd you get that sock, Tom?" he asked, every word clipped and precise, like he was expecting no room for anything but the truth.
Tommy's heart skipped a beat, a flicker of fear sparking in his chest. It should have been a simple question, one he could answer in a single breath. Cedric. He could just say it was from Cedric, his co-tutor, and be done with it.
But the way Benjamin asked, the way his eyes bore into Tommy's, pale and steady, like a winter sky, made Tommy hesitate.
It wasn't just the words—it was the unreadable look in those rare, beautiful, blonde eyes, cold as ice, yet not cruel. They held nothing at that moment—not even a flicker of emotion, no light, no darkness. Just pale and plain, unreadable.
Tommy felt a wave of discomfort wash over him. His own brown eyes couldn't stand the weight of Benjamin's gaze, the sheer intensity of it.
