Thirty Seven

The weight of his hand in mine made me tilt my head at the comfort. How it felt right, yet wrong. And how it presses something in my stomach. Makes me feel a strange sensation in my body. Thinking of all the strange things that always stay in my mind. That hand..

I can't think about it. That's inappropriate.

Jordan has betrayed me, not that I should throw myself at another man. What do I do it for anyway? Despite all the things inside of me screaming for Rhysand. That still can't happen. So I let go of my hand from his hand as we stopped at one of the balconies in the building's vast hall.

He looks at me, and I fold my arms across my chest. Withstanding the cold wind, the remnants of the snowfall that had just stopped a few hours ago. Rhysand turned to me, frowning.

I sighed softly, as I spoke, "What do you want to say?"

"You know, exactly, what I want to talk about."

I turned my gaze to the garden below which was dotted with heavy snow. The buttery rays of the garden lights made it s