Amidst the whirlpool of troubling thoughts about escape, Arda’s gaze dropped to the floor. She didn’t realize it until she felt his finger gently lifting her chin.
Once again, his movement was swift, silent, and disorienting. Her breath hitched as her eyes locked with his intense gaze. She was never going to get used to his unpredictable ways.
“Please,” she said, her voice strained. “Can you move like a normal person around me?”
“What is normal?” His voice was calm, yet taunting.
“Like a normal person,” she repeated, not knowing how else to explain herself. But he understood, or at least pretended to. He was just being difficult.
“What is normal?” he echoed, his voice almost mocking. “By whose standard is normalcy defined?”
“You know, like me. Like... a human.”
“A spade is not a sho
