Elle’s POV
My breath hitched in my throat before I could stop it.
His white hair was a little messy, sticking up like he’d just run his hands through it. He looked like something out of a dream. Or maybe a painting. The kind you weren’t supposed to stare at for too long, because it would make your heart race.
He hadn’t noticed me yet.
So I stood there, wrapped in his oversized sweater—my bare legs peeking out beneath the hem—feeling small and quiet. My hands were curled inside the sleeves, holding onto the soft fabric like it could protect me from whatever was going to happen next.
I didn’t know what to say.
I wasn’t even sure if I should say anything.
Would he be mad?
Would he look at me and see someone who didn’t listen? Someone who crossed a line?
The silence stretched, heav
