Alaric just stared at her.
What the hell happened to her?
She was still talking. Still swaying against him. Her voice getting more emotional.
"And you smile at them but never at me. And I-I know it's fake. I know it's just a job. But it still—"
Her eyes were getting glassy. Not from alcohol. From tears threatening to form.
"It still hurts."
Fuck.
Then she moved, rose up on her toes. Her face tilting up toward his.
Aiming for his lips.
But...
Alaric's hand shot up. Covered her mouth. Stopped her inches before contact.
Her eyes went wide. Confused. Hurt.
He leaned in. His voice dropping to something cold.
"Don't. Push. Your. Luck."
Sigh!
"You're drunk. You don't know what you're doing."
His hand stayed firm over her mouth. Preventing any more attempts.
"Understand?"
She stared at him. Those purple eyes searching his face behind the mask.
Then slowly, reluctantly, nodded.
He released her mouth. Stepped back slightly. Creating distance.
