Lucius stepped into the room, his boots making a soft thud against the wooden floor. By the window, Layla sat with her legs dangling over the edge, the cool night breeze playing with her hair. Her head rested lightly against the window frame, her gaze lost in the dark expanse outside. At the sound of the door closing, she turned, her eyes meeting his.
"You took your time," she said, her voice a blend of mild reproach and quiet relief.
"I was with Demitri," Lucius replied, his tone steady yet tinged with concern. He crossed the room swiftly, his eyes narrowing as he took in her precarious position. "But why are you sitting like this?"
Without waiting for a response, he leaned down, his hands bracketing her against the window frame, trapping her in place.
His face was so close that his cheek brushed against hers, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the cool air.
