I stare at Deniz in silence. Confused. Maybe a little disappointed.
A little hurt.
We haven't seen each other for days, and this is what he asks?
What I was doing in some shop?
He didn't even ask how I've been.
Nothing.
Deniz's eyes stay on me, dark and expectant. I don't give him an answer. I let the quiet stretch, let my own petty, silent anger simmer.
Anger at my favorite person for not being who I needed him to be just now.
At myself for caring so much.
After a long, heavy stare, I finally break. My voice comes out flat. Serious.
"Why do you ask?"
He blinks, recoiling almost imperceptibly. He wasn't expecting that.
The sharpness.
"I'm sorry," he says, the words quick, his gaze fleeing to the safe haven of the flower-filled wall.
"I didn't mean to dig into your privacy. I was just... a little shocked."
I keep staring, a forensic study of his profile. The tense line of his jaw, the flutter of a pulse in his throat.
