Chapter 620: Bright Eyes

Her forehead pressed lightly against the window, Nnenna closed her eyes. The hum of the engines seemed to echo her heart, steady and distant. And then, her mind slipped back.

Her mind drifted, unbidden, back to that day with Somto, bright eyes, confident smiles, a future neither of them could predict.

That first time. That first journey across the continent.

She had not woken in her own bed, no. She had woken cocooned in warmth, her body sinking into a softness that felt too perfect to question.

A blanket she didn’t remember pulling over herself. A pillow so warm and solid that it erased every trace of the nightmares she usually carried in her sleep.

Only when her fingers reached for her phone did the numbers on the screen snap her halfway awake.

Ten hours?

Her eyes had shot open. I slept that long? The realization was absurd, but her body felt so weightless, so deeply rested, it almost made sense.

She stretched, letting the comfort linger a second more, until her ears picked up something rhythmic. A soft tapping, right beside her.

She turned her head.

Somto.

ever, eyes locked on his tablet. His fingers moved with sharp precision across the screen, tapping

had when he was concentrating. The glow from the screen painted him in a

stuttered. Because the pillow under her cheek, wasn’t a pillow at

It was him.

upright, heat exploding across her

how did this happen?!" she burst

turned, his calm gaze finally leaving the tablet.

infuriating calm, "you put your head on my shoulder. That’s how

words tangled and tripped over each other, collapsing like a stack of

warm. He leaned back slightly, seeming to be enjoying the view of her flustered expression. "You looked like you were having a nightmare. I was doing you a favor,

to the window, refusing to let him see her cheeks burn

Her hands twisted in her lap, her guilt piling higher. She must have just slumped onto him in her sleep. Used him like a piece

had studied her, wide eyes, lashes still heavy from sleep, her

him must have softened because she would never

clear and unhurried, like each word was chosen with care. "You can use my shoulder... or my lap as a pillow...

had struck her like a

face turning crimson, hotter than fire. She shot up so suddenly the flight attendant nearby nearly dropped a

she stammered, bolting to the far end of the jet as if escape could erase the echo of his words in

in his seat. He watched her retreat, half hidden behind her own embarrassment, and let his smile linger. He must have

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