Beneath the Rising Tide

On the second day after moving to this old street, Damian Locke spotted the girl at the alley's entrance—the one clutching a sketchbook, her bangs nearly covering half her face. The neighbor auntie told him Silas Carver was the quietest tenant in their building, like a cat forever tucked away in the shadows. Dorian thought so too at first. Until he caught that gaze again amid the crowd at the café—what hid in those eyes was not shyness, but a smoldering fire long suppressed. Every glance she cast his way was a silent, desperate cry, and it stirred a sudden, fierce impulse within him. He deliberately smiled at her, inviting her closer, and in her flustered expression, he caught a trace of something that made him…