Mila tucked her hair behind her ear, sitting on the chair beside Zyran was already too close for her. She remembered telling him how she felt last night and since then, her heart had been racing. Partly because she was worried about Zyran, but mostly she was wondering how to act around him when he woke up.
"Mila, pasa me the salad," Cher pointed at the bowl of salad in front of Mila.
Before she could grab it, Zyran touched it first and picked it up, for a second their fingers grazed each other's.
"Ohm...sorry," Mila retraced her hand, squeezing her palm tightly. Her ears blushed; she couldn't look up to stare Zyran in the face.
At the moment, all she could feel was the grazing of their fingers and how long Zyran's fingers were, and even the way he grabbed the bowl calmly. Had Zyran always been this cool?
