Ambrose could barely regulate his breathing, his fingers digging into the sofa. Viktor—probably unaware of how much he was affecting him—brushed his thumb right under his lips.
All without a word.
The worst part was that Viktor didn't just know how much effect he was having on the Guide. He could feel it. See it—in the ways his eyes fought between staying on him and looking anywhere else.
Viktor's heart raced at a pace he could no longer ignore.
His thumb froze just mere centimetres away from Ambrose's lips. Hovering. Like an invitation for something bolder. He didn't know how or when exactly… but he drew nearer until their shoulders brushed.
'What the fuck is happening?' Ambrose's internal voice was in full-blown panic mode. 'Fuck, fuck… this is bad. I–I can't. We—'
The thoughts froze like ice the second Viktor's head tilted to the side. The Esper's eyelids batted calmly, gaze flicking from Ambrose's eyes to his lips.
Waiting for any signs of resistance.
There were none.
