>Mallory
Before I could even react, he stepped closer again—but this time, not to trap me. His hands went to my clothes instead, gentle and careful. He straightened the fabric where it had been wrinkled, smoothing it down with slow strokes. His fingers adjusted my sleeves, tugged my collar back into place, and brushed imaginary dust from my shoulder.
I stood there, frozen.
My mind couldn't catch up with my body. My heart was still racing, my skin still hot, yet he was acting calm, almost cheerful. It felt wrong, like two moments that didn't belong together had been forced into one.
I let out a shaky breath without realizing it.
He noticed.
His movements softened even more, as if he was reassuring me instead of threatening me just seconds ago. He fixed my collar carefully, straightening it until it sat perfectly.
