CYAN
Cassian didn't look away.
He has this way of looking at you, not like he's waiting for his turn to speak, but like he's performing an autopsy on your thoughts.
It's heavy. It's unblinking. It's the kind of stare that makes most people confess to crimes they haven't even committed yet.
I held it for a heartbeat, maybe two, feeling the weight of it pressing against the lie I was trying to tell. Then, I did what I always do. I built a joke.
"If you keep staring at me like that, I'm going to assume you're deeply in love with me," I said, my voice light, airy, and perfectly practiced.
I gave him a little wink, the kind that functions as a shield. "Or possibly that you're turning into a marble statue. Either way, it's alarming, Cassie. My ego can only handle so much tension before breakfast."
