(Raya’s POV)
My eyes find his and I raise an inquiring eyebrow. What the hell is this?
He stares at me intently, trying to convey a message that I cannot understand. I don’t think he looks thrilled, but neither does he look annoyed or impatient.
“I met Miss Westley on my way back here. She told me she wished to join us on our run.” He explains, staring at me unblinking, which looks painful and unnatural, so he must be doing it on purpose to tell me something.
“She wants to run with us?” I repeat slowly, as if tasting the words. “And yet…you carrying her suggests that that’s not going to happen.”
“She turned her ankle on the way here…”
Both my eyebrows spring up, almost reaching my hairline. How convenient. I’d bet my last cents that that delicate foot doesn’t even hurt a tiny bit. So
