Elara's POV
As I stoop to arrange my bed, my eyes droop with exhaustion. The silence from behind causes me to turn around. Lorenzo still stands there, his eyes taking in the state of the tent. He looks genuinely worried, frozen in his thoughts, his gaze darting around uneasily as if the condition of my home has left him speechless.
"Mr. Russo, I think you should leave," I say, my voice steady. "A place like this is not good for someone like you."
He snaps out of his thoughts, his eyes locking onto mine. There's a flash of something in his gaze—sympathy, maybe pity—but I can't stand the idea of him looking at me like that.
“Elara, I—uh, I—" Lorenzo stammers.
I roll my eyes. Why isn't he leaving? I really need to sleep. “Look, sir, I understand this place is stinky and all. You should l
