The air between them grew tense—charged—and Auri's breath caught in his throat as Wrye tilted his head slightly, his lips inches away.
"I-I-I have the payment!" Auri blurted out in panic, pressing a hand to Wrye's chest to push him away.
Wrye paused, but he didn't budge. "Do you?"
"Y-Yeah, just—" Auri fumbled blindly from behind, reaching for the coin pouch where he prepared the payment for the mercenary. He yanked it from the edge of the table and thrust it to Wrye. "H-Here. Take it."
Wrye took the pouch from him with deliberate slowness. He gave him a long stare, glanced at the pouch, before he pulled away.
Auri let out a breath of relief, resting a hand to his still pounding chest.
Wrye poured the contents of the pouch into his hand. The clinking of gold filled the room as he counted in silence—one row, then another. When the last coin fell into place with a soft clink, he raised an eyebrow.
