At the other end of the line, the sharpness of the message landed like a clean bullet to the chest, precise and unapologetic, and Leon found himself staring at the screen for a second longer than necessary before one brow lifted slowly in amused surprise.
He hadn't expected that. A slow grin tugged at his mouth as he began typing back, his fingers deliberate, entertained rather than offended.
Wow, so fierce. It's me, Leon. I thought my dad gave you my number when I got yours.
In her bedroom, Seraphine read the message and immediately felt heat crawl up her neck and settle into her cheeks, the kind of embarrassment that made her wish she could physically delete herself along with the text.
She had responded like a guarded soldier to what turned out to be a harmless civilian.
Sorry. I thought it was a wrong number, she typed quickly, her fingers moving faster than her pride could protest. But a date? We never had that agreement.
