The door creaked open at his command, and there was Lumina standing at the threshold, her figure framed by the soft light spilling into the room. Beorn lingered behind her, a silent shadow.
Her gaze finally fell upon Nyxander, tracing the expanse of his bare chest sculpted to the contours of a marble statue. Her eyes, as if against her will, traced further down, settling on the joystick stick-an unapologetic advert of his masculinity. A wave of heat coursed through her, making her cheeks flush crimson, their color blooming like roses in full bloom.
"Idiot!" she snarled, her voice a whip of flustered emotion cracking against the still air. She whirled on her heel with a speed rivaled by startled deer only. She shoved Beorn backward with force that took him by surprise.
"Hey, what." Beorn began, but his words were cut off as the door slammed shut in his face, leaving him there, bewildered.
