Daemon
I hadn’t slept again.
Over and over, I saw Diana sitting at her desk: the soft glow of the monitor falling across those familiar features, a strand of hair slipping over her shoulder, and that unmistakable scent I had caught when I leant towards her under the pretence of looking at the spreadsheet.
Damn...
I had never imagined memory could be this cruel. I could almost physically feel the way her body had tensed when I got too close. And yet she had held her ground. More than that, her icy composure had hurt me far more than any punch in the face ever could. I had caught the faintest tremor of her lashes, but Diana hadn’t allowed herself a single flicker of emotion. Not a glance, not a sigh, not the slightest sign of weakness.
Once, I had thought I knew every one of her reactio
