Click.
Click.
I lost count of clicks. My shoulders started to stiffen.
He told me not to move—just my head, and whatever he told me to do so.
At the corner of my eye, I noticed Austen was sitting on the chair, crossing his arms over his chest with his lips pressed into a thin line.
He wasn’t impressed
A few seconds later, he groaned. “You are not a statue, Harry. Show some emotions to that pretty face. Mr. Linton told you not to move, but it doesn’t mean you show us your emotionless expression.”
“I’m already numb.”
I was sure I heard Clyve groan.
“That’s not it. For the love of God, express something through your eyes—your passion, loneliness, love, desire, even your anguish. Look at Clyve.” Clyve stiffened when Austen mentioned his name, but nothing could stop my brother. “Think
