The tension that had simmered between them for weeks finally reached a boiling point. Stepping back into the room after their conversation on the balcony, Eleanor found herself alone with Elijah. The weight of the situation, the unspoken emotions, hung heavy in the air.
Eleanor turned, her gaze meeting Elijah's. His eyes, a stormy grey, held a depth she hadn't noticed before. A silent invitation flickered within them, a yearning that mirrored her own. Without a word, they were drawn together, a slow, inexorable pull.
Their first touch was electric. Elijah's hand brushed against hers, sending shivers down her spine. His fingers lingered, a hesitant exploration that spoke volumes. Eleanor leaned into his touch, her heart hammering against her ribs.
He cupped her face, his thumbs gently stroking the tear tracks that stained her cheeks. His touch was both comforting and arousing, a stark contrast to the turmoil they faced. Eleanor closed her eyes, drowning in the warmth of his hand.
