Moreau swallowed harshly to face Abihirt who was barely a distance away. The man's face was slightly lowered, while she had to look up, holding her breath that was starting to become ragged, fast, even feeling her heart almost falling against her ribs.
A pulse-piercing tension ran through Moreau, everything seemed so heavy and claustrophobic. She fought hard to forget the situation here, but it was as if her skin was so tight, overcoming the urgent need with lungs that were too small, that the blood seemed to flow so thickly.
The anticipation in Moreau's mind rose rapidly as she faced the fingertips that brushed delicately across her face. Abihirt was likely studying the texture, or most likely... the man wanted to see the fear in her eyes.
There was no smile, no particular expression,
