Raphael
Something was different.
The moment she had opened the door she had looked flustered. She was breathing a little too fast, her face was flushed in a pretty pink color and her lips were parted in that subtle welcoming way. She was wearing a t-shirt dress, her legs bare from the middle of her thighs. Feet bare with toenails painted pink.
And as we walked towards the library, I noticed that even her pace was different. Unlike how she walked in the morning through the gardens brisk and quick, now she walked beside me tentatively, almost flowing. “Has something happened?” I asked.
She inhaled sharply and turned her face toward me. Her brown eyes were dark and big on her face. Her tongue darted out, quickly skimming her bottom lip as she said, “No. Nothing.”
Pushing the library doo
