Goosebumps prickled my skin, and a frantic flutter erupted in my stomach, like a thousand butterflies in a desperate dance. His eyes, dark and intense, never once left mine, a fact that I suspected, to my horror, a few others in the audience were beginning to notice.
He stared, an unreadable emotion swirling in their depths.
Was he trying to make me feel special? Or was this a chilling warning, a declaration of his intent? My mind screamed a single, urgent command:
Shifu, run. Danger.
Yet, my treacherous heart, a hopeful, foolish thing, thumped a different rhythm.
Damon likes Shifu. Shifu might also like Damon.
The internal battle raged, a fierce tug-of-war between instinct and an unsettling, undeniable attraction. I clung to the logical part of my brain, convinced that the song was
