Lyra's gaze never wavered. "It snowed outside today," he said quietly, the words landing like a stone in my chest. The simple statement made my heart clench painfully, a sudden pang of longing for the freedom I had lost, the crisp winter air, the untouched white blanket covering the grounds, the world beyond these walls.
I rolled my eyes and wet my fingertip to turn the page of the book I no longer cared about, pretending nonchalance. He continued staring, forcing our eyes to meet in a silent, electric challenge. Then, without warning, he reached over, plucked the book from my hands, closed it with a decisive snap, and set it aside on the coffee table.
He lowered his head slowly, deliberately, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the soft skin on the inside of my thigh. I watched him, my
