Nathalie.
Six feet of him filled the doorway, a grey tuxedo fitted like a second skin, tan skin catching the light better than the room itself, blue eyes cutting straight through me. He stood there, hands in his pockets, saying nothing at all.
I stood frozen, watching him. The anger I'd been holding onto disappeared almost instantly, but I caught myself, clenching my fists. This is exactly how it always goes. His presence calms me down, and I forget everything I'm supposed to be feeling. Not this time. I need to end this confusion, right now.
"You hate my guts?" He started, leaning back against the wall, legs crossed, hands sinking deeper into his pockets. I didn't miss the way the fabric of his suit stretched across his shoulders.
"I said that. But I never said a word about the leak.
