Camilla slowly nodded her head. She kept her body relaxed against the rough canvas wall of the tent. She looked up at his face.
She thought to herself, her internal voice sounding very quiet and deeply observant.
"Look at his eyes," Camilla thought.
Damon, who was listening to her thoughts perfectly, felt a sudden, massive surge of pride. He stood up a little straighter. His broad shoulders pulled back, and he puffed his chest out slightly. He expected her to think of a very sweet, highly romantic compliment. He thought she was going to think about how handsome he was, or how safe she felt in his strong arms, or how much she loved his dark brown eyes. After all, he had just saved her from a public scene, wiped her tears, and held her very gently.
But the table flipped completely and aggressively in the next second.
"What a completely naive boy," Camilla's thoughts suddenly declared, her internal voice turning incredibly cold, mocking, and full of deep amusement.
