Theon simply stood there while Azaria remained rooted to the spot where she was, her hazel eyes fixed on him behind the lenses of her glasses. Her lips had parted slightly, her brows drawn together as though she were trying to decide whether she had actually heard him correctly or whether her mind had somehow filled in the wrong words. The silence stretched between them, interrupted only by the whistle of the winter wind through the trees surrounding the cabin and the soft crunch of snow falling from the branches overhead.
His own pulse roared in his ears because, finally, he had said it. He had actually said the words out loud to her.
