Alaric
It was becoming harder to look away.
Every time Kimani walked into a room, my composure thinned a little more. She didn’t do anything particularly striking—she didn’t try to. She just was. Effortless, warm, real.
And maybe that was what made her dangerous.
Because every time she smiled, or rolled her eyes, or challenged me with that stubborn tilt of her chin, I found myself wanting to see it again.
Even now, sitting across from her in the library, I caught myself watching her instead of reading. The soft light from the chandelier brushed against her skin, her expression shifting as she flipped through pages.
She was completely absorbed, unaware of how beautiful she looked when she was lost in her own world.
My fingers tightened slightly around my glass of water. I shouldn’t b
