AZALEA'S POV
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My heart feels like it has a tremor as I take it out. Corbin is watching me carefully, and my smile is wary from how stressed I am. I stop reaching for it, glancing at him, "Actually, can you sit?" Corbin's eyebrows furrow together, his lips parting before pressing into a thin line without saying anything. He questionably points toward his chair, eyes wide with uncertainty. He skeptically pulls it closer, the tiny wheels on the bottom rolling closer and sits, his body stiff. With my hand still buried into the basket, I smile, inhaling a breath that's supposed to be calming, but instead, it just makes my throat dry as if it were exposed to sun the entire day.
I swallow, letting the saliva coax my throat. My fingers wrap around the object as I keep my gaze locked on Corbin
