Zethan's body turned rigid, his jaw ticking as he stared into the thin air.
Lilia pressed her lips into a thin line and turned her face to the side before looking back at him. She searched his face—and that look, she knew it too well.
"Zethan, don't tell me you're planning—"
"Yes, Lilia. I am planning," Zethan cut her off, not letting her finish. He had already made up his mind.
Her eyes widened as she reached out, her fingers brushing his face gently. Her body tensed, concern flooding her expression at the way Zethan just sat there, unmoving.
"Let me see the pancakes, Zethan. They'll be getting cold," she said gently, standing up. But just as she moved to step away, Zethan pulled her back—gently, but firmly—until her back was pressed against his chest as they sat.
"Z… Zethan," she gasped. Her shirt—no, his shirt—had ridden up. It looked just like his, and she realized he must have dressed her in it after their…
