KIMANI
It started subtly.
At first, I thought I was imagining it—the way Alaric’s eyes would linger a little too long when I spoke, the quiet glances I’d catch when he thought I wasn’t looking. But over the past few days, those fleeting moments had grown frequent enough to make my pulse skip in the most inconvenient ways.
Every time we were in the same room, it felt like there was an invisible thread pulling my attention toward him. Whether we were reading after dinner or crossing paths in the hallway, my eyes somehow found his.
And worse—his found mine.
The worst part? I didn’t hate it.
If anything, I found myself waiting for it. Looking forward to it.
This morning, he’d been in the dining room before me, his usual calm composure in place, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose
