Third person narrative
After the long hours of the ball, Nala and Tyron both retired to their bedroom.
A good half of the moon was hidden behind the clouds, and a soft night wind blew in through the windows.
Nala was busy in front of the mirror, passing a brush through her hair and getting ready for bed. All the while, she watched Tyron's reflection, for no other reason than how good he looked under the moon's rays.
He had a towel wrapped around his thin waist just as he used another to dry his wet hair.
Next, Tyron reached for his slacks and pulled them up his legs, finishing with a sleeping robe over his sculptured body.
Since the end of the party, he hadn't said a word to her, and she was beginning to wonder if all he'd done that evening was only because of the guests.
Her hea
