The moment the young girl’s delicate brows snapped sharply downward, her almond-shaped eyes flashing with unmistakable indignation, Dylan Brooks felt a flicker of helpless amusement ripple through his chest. It wasn’t annoyance exactly—more like the weary resignation of someone who had long grown accustomed to being misunderstood.
From his perspective, her Tai Chi really wasn’t anything worth praising. The movements were earnest, yes, and there was a certain surface-level fluency to her forms, but the underlying structure was loose, the transitions lacked cohesion, and the internal rhythm never quite settled. Still, that wasn’t why he had shaken his head earlier.
He hadn’t meant to mock her. He hadn’t even been thinking about her technique at all.
What truly disappointed him was the pla
