SERAPHINA’S POV
For what seemed like an eternity, Kieran and I just stood there staring at each other—him with his fist still half-raised, his jaw set and eyes wary, me arrested mid-step, stomach twisting, my pulse skidding as if I’d been caught doing something wrong.
The air between us crackled with tension and uncertainty.
“Kieran,” I breathed.
“Sera,” he said at the same time.
We both stopped.
Then he cleared his throat and lowered his hand, fingers flexing once like they’d been clenched for a long time.
“I—” he started.
“I was just—” I said.
We froze again.
A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. It was soft, nervous, and embarrassingly high-pitched—a clear sign of how flustered I was.
He huffed a quiet breath, something close to a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. “You first.”
I glanced down the corridor, then back at him.
