Kael
I swallowed a sigh and turned around slowly, coming face to face with Eamon.
Our gazes met and held. His appearance had improved since the last time I saw him.
He looked better, not like the half-starved, skittish boy I had seen before.
Gone were the dirty smudges that had marked his pale skin. His previously knotted, limp, and badly cut blond hair was now properly washed and brushed.
The fresh clothes helped too: a simple, oversized t-shirt and well-fitted jeans that somehow managed to look both practical and appealing.
My eyes moved to his face, noticing how his eyes—a deeper shade of green, like the spring forest after rain—met mine shyly.
His nose was small, almost delicate and slightly upturned at the end. His lips were unusually soft-looking and carried a natural tint of pink that seemed nearly…
I cleared my throat and finally averted my gaze. What was wrong with me? When did I start wasting time on such trivial observations?
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
