The photographer gently lifted Lunara's chin, angling her face toward the light. "There, hold that," he instructed, stepping back to frame the shot. "Tilt a little… yes, just like that."
From across the room, Eryx watched, his gaze dark and unreadable. His arms were crossed, his stance relaxed, but the way his jaw tightened told another story. His eyes followed every movement and the way the photographer adjusted Lunara's posture, how his fingers briefly brushed against her skin.
A sharp click of the camera echoed, but Eryx barely registered it. He had no reason to feel anything about this. And yet, the longer he watched, the more he felt something unpleasant coil in his chest.
The photographer clicked his tongue, stepping back to assess the shot. "The color isn't picking up well on camera," he muttered. Turning to the makeup artist, he held out a hand. "Pass me lipstick."
