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⊰ 30 ⊱ Treading a Fine Line
It feels as though someone has turned up the heat in the room, feeling my blood run hot beneath my skin as I sit here, sharing the dining table with Marcel, Levi, Santiago, and Guillermo. I hold my hands on my lap, twiddling my fingers under the sleeves of my sweater as my heel incessantly bounces up and down against the marble floor.
I’m intentional with my gaze, avoiding looking at Levi who sits right next to me, and only glancing at Santiago and Guillermo who sit across from me every-so-often. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Marcel as he leans forward on his seat, resting his elbows on the table as his fingers interlock with one another.
“Mercy,” Marcel’s voice draws my attention, my head instinctively snapping to the side, my gaze flicking up to meet his. A stern look plays on his face, a stark difference from the tenderness he offered me when I first walked in the room. “How long until you’re finished preparing the devices?”
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