The knock came again, softer this time, but it still jolted through me like a spark. I sat frozen on the stool, charcoal smudged across my fingers, staring at the mess of lines on the paper that refused to become anything real. My heart thudded heavy against my ribs. Part of me hoped he’d just walk away. The bigger part knew he wouldn’t.
“Lila.” Damien’s voice filtered through the door, low and edged with something I couldn’t name. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
I wiped my hands on my shorts, leaving dark streaks behind, and crossed the room. When I opened the door he filled the frame, shoulders tense, storm-gray eyes locked on mine like he’d been waiting hours instead of minutes. The hallway light caught the fresh scratch marks on his neck from last night. My marks.
I stepped
