Lyra’s POV
My back was still sticking to the mirror when I realized I’d stopped breathing.
Sweat cooling on my skin, robe half-off, thighs sore, lipstick long since devoured. Leo’s fingerprints ghosted along my hips like phantom bruises. His breath was still somewhere in the room, clinging to the air like it hadn’t figured out how to leave either.
my body… buzzed.Like my nerves were trying to reboot and forgot which version of me they belonged to.
I slid off the vanity, slowly. My feet touched the cold floor with all the grace of a sinner stepping out of a confessional,one who knew damn well she was going back in.
Leo stood across the room now, half-buttoned shirt, bare forearms, glass of scotch in one hand, sins in the other.
No words.
Just that stare, the one that made me feel lik
