"Your outfit looks—outfit looks good," Marquis stammered, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
Anna let out a soft laugh, though it was short and polite. Elara giggled beside her and hooked her arm through Anna's. "Let's go," she said cheerily, leading Anna away. The two pushed through the large double doors, their laughter echoing faintly in the hall.
Marquis stayed rooted in place, watching her leave. His eyes followed the slight sway of her movements, the way her hair caught the light, and the way she tucked it behind her ear—a small, habitual motion. At first, his chest swelled with pride, imagining her walking away with a smile meant just for him. He had been so sure of it, so sure of her excitement when he suggested they leave together.
But as the seconds ticked by, the image cracked. It wasn't the joy he'd expected. It wasn't the connection he'd convinced himself they had.
