Archive of Our Own ^beta

His gaze was on her.

He sat across her, and she behind the desk. Several stacks of paper were at its corners, pristine and neat. Her own gaze dropped low on one stack, reading a page of some kind of proposal from one of the Council members.

Concerning the now iced-over courtyard, it is suggested to place a statue of the same material at its center so as to attract more consumers, most particularly from other kingdoms …

But even with her eyes set on it, she could still see – see his own emerald stones for eyes on her, unreadable and watching …

… suggested to place a statue of the same material at its center so as to attract more consumers, most particularly from other kingdoms …

Watching? She considered the word. Was he really? Watching would pertain to observing, and observing would relate to each of her movements. He had barely glanced down to the paper she’s been reading, or even the previous ones. His gaze was focused on her. And he’s sat there for more than thirty minutes, perhaps–

… at its center so as to attract more consumers, most particularly from other kingdoms …

She jerked back, realizing she’s reading the same sentence over and over. Her eyes fluttered to him, immediately noting the amused quirk of the edge of his lips. Blood gathered around her cheeks, meeting on her nose. It was suddenly warm. (Or maybe, a little less cold.)

She returned her gaze on the paper, and kept it there, on that insufferable sentence.

… more consumers, most particularly from other kingdoms. This would certainly …

He hasn’t looked away. He was still staring. Staring. It still didn’t fit. Not fully, anyway. Staring meant something even a bit like glaring. Tinted with hostility, or wistfulness - something vacant or lost.

This one – his gaze – wasn't any of that. It was more fixated, more intense somehow. In a soft kind of way, with his features relaxed. It wasn't the bedroom kind of look (... not that she knew what that was). It was more like the look one would wear upon stumbling an interesting  piece of art, appreciating its beauty and essence. 

Even so, it remained difficult to decipher the emotion behind that look. As expected of him, she thought bitterly.

… most particularly from other kingdoms. This would certainly increase our …

He continued on – gazing. Yes, that fit perfectly! Gazing. Intense and fixated and soft. Gazing at her face, she was sure. Maybe even memorizing somehow. That would be something he’d do. Pasting every feature – every detail – in his mind. Storing it for future use.

Imagining this further sent more blood onto her face. Tinting her pale complexion with a deep shade of tomato red. Hotter now. (Or, less, less cold.) 

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clearing her throat and returning to her work.

She didn’t need to glance over to see the knowing smirk on his face.