Third Person’s POV
Skin.
Miles of skin.
Aurelia felt high, lying upon his chest, fingers gliding across his skin.
Smooth. Warm. Hers.
“Aurie.”
She shivered at the sound of his gruff voice, my eyes stuck to my fingers gliding across his collarbone now, his shoulder—
“Aurie, we can’t just stay here.”
Seeking comfort, she crawled up his chest, lifting myself up onto my elbows so we were nose to nose, taking in his dark eyes, the purse of his full lips—“Isaac.” To say his name, to have him right in front of her, and after all this time . . . it was like a dream.
He swallowed, staring up at her, guarded.
Caressing his cheek with her fingers, she felt him stiffen as he averted his eyes. Defensive. Evasive. She wished he’d just look at her.
