"I-I mean..." Ethea stammered, the words rushing out in a desperate bid to rescue her crumbling dignity. "The floor must be cold... A-And... W-We are... married... so..."
Her voice completely faded into a faint whisper, unable to even finish the thought.
The raw vulnerability hanging in the air after she trailed off finally broke Soren out of his trance. He slowly straightened his posture, releasing his grip on the blanket at last. He cleared his throat, the sound slightly raspy in the quiet bedroom, and rubbed the back of his neck. The heat was rapidly rising up his own skin now, completely shattering his usual calm demeanor.
