Agnes
The clouds shifted slightly in the sky, casting a pale blue shaft of moonlight across the room that revealed Elijah standing in the doorway.
He was leaning against the door frame, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tie missing, revealing the strong lines of his forearms. His hair was tousled, like he had been running his hands through it, and a glass of whiskey dangled loosely from his fingertips.
His eyes were fixed on me, dark and unblinking.
My cheeks flamed. How long had he been standing there? I scrambled to find the right words, my voice coming out embarrassingly shaky. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“To what?” he asked, his tone calm, almost lazy, as he tilted his head slightly.
“To interrupt your quiet time,” I finished, biting my lip. “I k
