All that was left in the room was absolute stillness and it slowly became suffocating. The warmth of the weekend had evaporated in an instant, replaced by a sudden, freezing tension that made the hairs on Azaria's arms stand on end.
Theon remained frozen in his crouch, his eyes boring into the sleek business card resting in his hands. In the pale moonlight, his jaw was clamped so tightly that the sharp line of his muscle looked carved. The adoring lover from only an hour ago was completely gone, replaced by a cold, imposing presence that felt entirely foreign.
"Theon?" she whispered, her voice sounding small and tentative in the room. "Is something wrong?"
Slowly, he lifted his head. When his eyes met hers, they looked entirely different, the pupils blown wide as they locked onto her face with intense scrutiny. "Why do you have this, Azaria?"
