When I pulled the door open, the knot in my stomach constricted, the Captain of the Destriers startlingly handsome in a deep green tunic. He leaned against the doorframe, his calloused fingers drumming a static rhythm on the old wood. He regarded me, tilting his head like an inquisitive bird of prey. “I thought you’d still be at dinner.” “None of us were very hungry. I just got back.” “Yes. I heard you.”
LMAOOO HELP
