Silverline Again

Ebilade stood in the doorway, his tall, broad frame blocking most of the light behind him, casting a shadow over Silverline. His crimson shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a glimpse of a smooth, toned chest, and his sharp features were set into a look of cautious annoyance. His brows furrowed slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning lazily against the doorframe.

Silverline stood on the threshold, a playful smirk curling her lips. Her silver hair shimmered under the hallway light, cascading over her shoulders like a flowing river of moonlight. Her striking, mischievous eyes sparkled with amusement as she placed a hand on her hip, leaning slightly forward as though daring him to step back.

Ebilade's sharp gaze flicked over her, his expression unwavering. "Silverline," he said, his voice low and deliberate, "what do you want?"