Anne froze, her eyes widening as her senses sharpened. It was unmistakable, clinging faintly to Damien's clothes, the same scent she had hated. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at Damien, her excitement quickly draining, replaced by a sinking feeling of dread.
Her eyes met his, and she saw it. Guilt.
Damien's face, which had lit up the moment he saw her, now faltered. His smile flickered, and the confidence he usually exuded cracked. He tried to hold her gaze, but Anne could see the storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes—the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders stiffened as if bracing for a blow.
"Damien," she whispered, her voice trembling with the mix of emotions coursing through her. Her fingers, which had been inches away from touching him, now hovered in the air, unsure.
"What... what is this?"
