Nayana
Leo’s glare pins me right where I stand. It’s so sharp and cold that I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. The air in the room is thick and heavy enough to choke on, and my pulse is the only thing I can hear, wild and erratic.
His eyes are a storm, that deep ocean-blue darkened by anger. I’ve seen him irritated before, even cold, but this… this is different. This is fury that’s barely holding itself together.
“Um, W–what are you talking about?” My voice comes out smaller than I want it to. I hate how shaky it sounds. A part of me hopes that he didn’t hear most of my conversation on the phone.
Leo doesn’t answer immediately. He just takes a slow step toward me. The sound of his shoes clicking against the marble floor echoes like thunder in my ears. He takes another step closer.
