Seraphina's Point Of View
I blinked, the reality of my vulnerability settling in like a stone in my chest, and suddenly the air felt too thick to breathe. My lungs constricted with the weight of it. I looked at him… really looked at his face, studying the dark hair plastered to his forehead, the intense, almost unreadable look burning in his eyes, and a sudden, sharp spike of sheer panic hit my chest like a physical blow. The fear was primal, instinctive, the kind that makes prey animals freeze when they realize they've been cornered.
Was he high? Like, actually out of his mind? The thought raced through my head, irrational but persistent, a desperate attempt to make sense of the intensity radiating from him.
Who the hell gave him permission to look at me like he owned the space between my ribs? Like he could see straight through to the frantic beating of my heart? The intimacy of his gaze felt like an invasion, stripping away every defense I'd carefully constructed.
