The night stretched on endlessly. Ella lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the faint glow of the moon spilled through the cracks in the curtains. Sleep refused to come, her mind replaying the moment in the library on an endless loop. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Nicholas's face — the wicked curve of his smirk, the heat in his dark eyes, the way his breath had danced across her lips like a whispered temptation.
Her pulse fluttered at the memory, the ghost of his nearness still lingering on her skin.
What is wrong with me?
Ella huffed out a frustrated breath, throwing off the covers. The room felt too warm, suffocating. Her heart wouldn't stop its restless pounding, and no matter how many times she shifted positions, sleep remained stubbornly out of reach.
