I steadied my breath, just about to speak, when I caught sight of the scene on Cyril's end.
It seemed he was in a bar, the space shrouded in a dim, intimate atmosphere. Soft lighting cast across his face, softening the sharpness of his features and adding an unexpected gentleness to his expression.
I froze for a moment, unable to look away.
He was looking at me as well, his eyes shimmering with a hint of water, his gaze almost dreamy.
He appeared to have had a fair amount to drink, the corners of his eyes tinged with redness, a clear intoxication in his gaze.
At that moment, he looked especially captivating.
Like being jolted by electricity, I quickly averted my eyes, my heart racing.
A teasing voice from Cyril drifted into my ear. "Why aren't you looking at me? Didn't you call beca
