The door opened with a soft click, and Seraphina stood there—draped in a deep crimson robe that clung to her curves like it was designed just for this moment.
Xavier stepped in, and the air felt heavier somehow. Maybe it was the scent—subtle jasmine and something softer, almost like warm honey—or maybe it was just her.
Seraphina closed the door behind him with a soft click. She didn't say anything at first. Just walked past him, her robe fluttering lightly with every step as she headed to the small kitchen area. She poured two glasses of water and handed him one.
Her fingers brushed against his.
Xavier took the glass but didn't drink. His eyes were fixed on her. The way the dim light above cast a golden glow over her pale collarbone. The tiny rise and fall of her chest beneath the silk. The nervous, almost shy way her eyes avoided his when he stared too long.
"Thanks for coming," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know you're probably tired."
