LUCIAN
I follow her into the room, but the silence between us is heavy enough to pin me to my chair without warning. She sits on the far side of the room, curled up on the couch with the book which I'm certain she hasn’t turned a page in for the last hour. The soft golden light spilling from the lamp makes her skin glow, but her eyes are fixed anywhere but on me.
I try taking to her again, “You haven’t eaten.”
“I’m fine,” she replies. Her voice is polite, and clipped. The kind of politeness that feels like you slammed a door on your toes.
“Leah…”
“I’m tired, Lucian.”
I lean back in my chair, running a hand over my jaw. There’s an ache in my chest that I can't seem to get rid of. An alarm bell goes off in my head, warning me that if I push again, I’ll only make it worse. But then,
