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3rd Person POV
Adrien didn't move. Not even an inch, he stood there with one hand still gripping the doorknob, knuckles tight, shoulders drawn tense as if the wrong word might make the entire room collapse around him.
The fact that Vanessa...Vanessa of all people, was perceptive enough to piece together what he had buried so deeply made something cold settle beneath his ribs.
Behind him, he heard the faint rustle of the bedsheets as she slid off the mattress. A soft click of her tongue followed, irritation or disbelief, he couldn't tell.
When he finally turned, she was already pulling the silk robe from the chair, her expression no longer seductive or furious, just tired. The purple lingerie looked strangely pathetic now, stripped of its power and purpose, and her movements had lost all of their calculated sensuality.
