Daemon walks in with his head down, lost in thought. His expression is unreadable, his brow furrowed as if he’s turning something over in his mind. Then, after a moment, he looks up. The second his eyes land on me, he freezes. His mouth parts slightly, and something flickers across his face—shock? Recognition? Hunger? His gaze drags over me, slow and thorough, like he’s committing every detail to memory.
