The Path That Should Not Exist
Watching Isabella shift in her seat gave Victor quiet pleasure. Not once did he bother masking his interest. Each time he spoke a surprise, her usual stillness wavered just enough to show through. A small crease between her brows appeared. Her mouth pressed thinner without meaning to. One tap of her finger broke the silence - then nothing. What stayed unspoken came across clear anyway.
Back in the chair he went, loose and easy, an arm draped without effort while those gold-colored eyes followed her, lit by quiet laughter.
Funny how clear it became, reading between the lines of that half-hearted leader's silence.
Here we go once more. Trouble follows him like shadows at noon. This always lands on my desk somehow.
A grin nearly broke across his face just thinking about it.
