Isabella paused, lips flattening into a line that clearly meant I'm still deciding if you deserve this. Then she sighed and stepped aside. "Alright," she said, relenting. "Come in."
The tent opened up around him like a secret she hadn't planned on sharing—soft rugs cushioning his steps, a king-sized bed draped in silk, velvet armchairs arranged in a quiet little sitting area, and a vanity cluttered with evidence of her evening: a book abandoned mid-page, a half-empty glass of wine that had definitely seen some things. The air was warm, laced with her perfume, and thick with the kind of silence that spoke louder than words ever could.
She zipped the flap shut behind him, and just like that, the outside world disappeared.
