75
Demetrius
Amara fell asleep the moment they were safely in the air. Demetrius tucked in her blanket and froze, his face positioned a foot from her. He studied her—her still damp, black hair that smelled of the sea and clung close to her head, her long curled lashes, and her upturned nose. Faint color had returned to her cheeks but the paleness, abetted by the glint of fading daylight and her tightly drawn mouth, gave her a porcelain-like quality. She seemed unreal, like a doll, and he gently touched her face to reassure himself. She had always been special to him, but now she had become an essential part of his life.
He lowered himself and trembled, thinking he almost lost her. How curious for someone who had always shied away from attachments. Looking back he could count on one hand
