Arlan entered the room, carrying a wooden tray, and made his way to the lounge area where a wooden table stood sentinel before the couch.
"Have your meal," he said, gently setting the tray upon the table.
Oriana didn't dare move as she was not comfortable in that jacket where her legs were exposed. She felt hesitant to walk in front of him this way.
Sensing no movement from the bedside, Arlan turned his attention towards her, "Eat before it gets cold."
Despite her reservations, Oriana decided compliance was her best course of action. She gingerly maneuvered herself on the mattress, minimizing her movements, before tentatively stepping onto the floor. As she moved, Arlan couldn't help but steal a glance, his gaze lingering on the sight of her legs, uncovered by his jacket. His throat tightened, and a primal urge stirred within him, threatening to overwhelm his senses. He swore his Dragon stirred, ready to jump out.
