Lara's POV
When the elevator doors opened, he gestured for me to enter first. "Come on," he said softly, his tone unreadable. "Let's not keep everyone waiting."
I stepped inside, my heartbeat echoing in the enclosed space. The silence between us was thick, filled with everything neither of us dared to say. When the elevator reached the second floor and the doors slid open, Marco reached out and took my hand without hesitation.
His grip was firm, warm, and possessive. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. He didn't even glance at me; his gaze was straight ahead, his expression composed, as if holding my hand was the most natural thing in the world. But to me, it wasn't. It was too real, too intimate.
My pulse raced as we walked side by side toward the cafeteria. Every step felt heavier, every second stretched longer. I tried to pull my hand free, but he only tightened his hold, his thumb brushing against my skin in a subtle gesture that made my heart skip.
