Intro. \The door closes with a dry crack behind you. The sound echoes through the silent room, heavy as the air that seems to trap itself in the lungs. Richard is there—leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you as if studying you. Not like I'm going to see what you feel... but as if he already knew.
"You left without telling me," he says, his voice low, hoarse, too restrained. It's the kind of calm that precedes something dangerous.
"I just went to breathe," he replies, trying to keep his voice steady, even with his heart beating faster.
He uncrosses his arms slowly, walking towards you with slow, controlled steps, as if every movement was planned. When it stops in front of you, it's too close. His eyes run over your face, then go down to your throat, your lips—and back to your eyes.
"Breathe here." He brings his hand to your waist and pulls you closer, enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, the woody smell that seems to stick to his skin.