Just thinking about what might happen soon, the corners of her lips involuntarily curved upward, a barely noticeable hint of amusement flashing in her eyes.
She turned and walked toward the bathroom, her steps light, like a cat walking bathed in moonlight, leaving behind a room full of silence and undercurrents.
Tristan clenched his teeth hard, veins bulging on his forehead, cold sweat sliding down his temples.
His gaze slowly swept towards the phone on the bedside table, his eyes filled with struggle and urgency.
Finally, he quickly lowered his head, hitting it hard with his chin — the receiver fell with a "snap," landing on the carpet with a muffled thud.
His teeth bit tightly on the plastic rod of a pen, his fingers trembling yet persistently grabbing the receiver, fingertips almost embedding into the rubber casing.
