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Drift sinks back into the sofa, elbow resting on the arm, her head upon her fist, and holds Aimée's gaze with narrowed eyes. "Where are you going with this, Aimée?"
Aimée just smiles at her, and sips her brandy.
Drift's eyes flick to the clock, the tightness in her chest twisting further, an unpleasant ice forming at the base of her spine. Aimée has set her glass back down when she looks back, her dark eyes watching her intently. Drift swallows. "You can't... ask that of me, Aimée."
"I didn't ask anything," Aimée says, faux confusion spreading onto her face.
Drift's brow twitches, and she exhales slowly. "Aimée."
Series
- Part 5 of BloodOrchid