"I'm not hiding anything?"
Lukas's eyelashes are thick and as inky as his hair. A small, beautiful mole sits at the edge of his deep, smoky eyes.
He stares down at me with a cold, foggy edge that matches the color of his eyes.
Call it instinct, but something tells me I should be scared of him.
Like that prisoner thing from earlier, something claws at the corners of my chest, screaming at me to run and never look back.
That's ridiculous, why should I run?
"Are you sure?" he asked me in a detached tone before his lips curve into a cruel smirk. "It looks like you do."
My cheeks tint in red, but it's not due to embarrassment but hatred.
My blood boils to the point that I can smash Lukas's to the ground.
I open my mouth to say something
but I'm cut off when he caresses my cheeks
I sh
