Mike didn't look away. He let the silence stretch, his eyes traveling slowly from her lips back up to her eyes, a gaze so heavy it felt like a physical touch.
"So," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, teasing rumble. "Which category are you?"
Haruka gave him a flat, unimpressed look, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her.
"I'm the one who is slightly worried she's boring," she said, her voice steady despite the way her heart hammered against her ribs. "Obviously."
"You're not boring," Mike said, and there was no hesitation in his voice, no lilt of a man trying to charm a woman.
It was a statement of fact.
"You have to say that, huh?" she countered, a small, defensive smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"I don't have to say anything, Haruka," he said, leaning closer, the scent of him, something clean, masculine, and dangerously inviting, filling her senses. "I only say things when they're accurate."
"And you? You're a goddamn riot."
