9

The Weight of His Presence

I turned around to see who it was, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw Sebastian standing there, his dark, piercing eyes locked onto mine. His presence filled the room effortlessly, making it feel smaller and more suffocating. I couldn’t meet his gaze for long, not after what had happened earlier in my room. My cheeks burned at the memory, and I quickly turned back to the sink, pretending to focus on the dishes.

But before I could fully regain my composure, I felt a firm grip on my forearms. His touch was strong yet controlled, his long fingers wrapping around me with a possessive hold. He stopped me in my tracks, leaving no room for escape.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice deep and husky, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

I shook my head quickly, refusing to meet his gaze. The thought of facing him, of confronting the intensity in his eyes, was too much to bear.

“Look at me,” he said again, this time with a hint of impatience.