-Julien Grayson:
The room had gone quiet again, but it wasn't the same quiet as before.
It felt heavier now. Thicker. Like something had shifted between us without either of us saying it out loud.
Ezra was still crouched in front of me, one knee pressed against the wooden floor, his broad shoulders slightly hunched as he focused on my leg. His hands moved with careful precision, rough fingers surprisingly gentle as he spread the ointment over the scraped skin of my knee. The coolness of it contrasted sharply with the warmth of his touch, sending a strange, almost disorienting sensation up my leg.
I couldn't look away.
Not from his hands.
Not from the way his forearms flexed with every small movement, veins shifting under his dark skin. Not from the way his breathing stayed steady, controlled, as nothing in the world could shake him.
Except… something already had.
I felt it.
In the air.
In the way my own chest tightened.
