Then—
The door opens.
No knock. No warning.
Footsteps echo across the marble floor—sharp, sudden—shattering the silence like glass.
We both freeze.
I turn toward the door, my heart still racing, my lips still warm from the kiss.
Angel stands in the doorway.
His golden eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted, his chest rising and falling like he's been running—though I know he hasn't. He's perfectly still, but something in him is shifting.
Something in him is cracking.
His gaze drifts—from Deniz, still too close, still caught—to my hands on his waist, to the space between us that leaves no room for explanation.
His expression is unreadable.
Not anger. Not hurt. Just… shock.
Like he's walked into a room and found everything changed—familiar, but no longer the same.
Deniz stands quickly, nearly stumbling. His hands find his glasses on the desk; he slips them on with trembling fingers, his face flushed, his composure cracking at the edges.
