She asked him a question, but all she got in response was complete and absolute silence.
The silence stretched.
It was sharp. Heavy. Intentional.
Aria's brows drew together, a deep frown etching across her face as her eyes fixed on him. He had heard her—of that she was certain. Yet he didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't so much as flinch.
He just stared.
Right at her.
And the fact that he was doing it so calmly, without even pretending to consider her words, made her blood boil. Her chest rose sharply with the force of her irritation. A different kind of fire lit behind her eyes.
She didn't look away.
She was incensed that he was acting like this again—calm, detached, controlled—like she wasn't even worthy of a real answer.
"If you're not going to tell me," she began, her voice rising with force, "then tell me this… what will I have to do to get it?"
She wasn't here to play games or wait for riddles to unravel themselves.
