Her heels stopped. Silence pressed in. A soft breath rustled dust near his locker door. If he reached through that crack, he could almost brush her skirt.
Steady, he told himself. He clasped his wrists, feeling his own pulse thrumming beneath leather straps. Anticipation coiled inside him like a spring.
The latch lifted with a tender click. Cool air spilled into the locker. For half a heartbeat, Mikhailis stared straight into Serelith's eyes—violet flecks catching the dim lantern gleam. Surprise flared, then narrowed to delight.
He exhaled a resigned sigh, lips tugging into a crooked smirk. "Found me, huh?"
"Caught," she whispered, the single word gliding over his skin like velvet.
