He didn’t announce himself.

You only noticed when the air shifted—when presence replaced silence.

Then he was there.

Too close.

Tamsy leaned in without hesitation, his gaze dragging slowly across your face like he was cataloging something rare. His eyes lingered—sharp, unblinking, invasive in a way that made it impossible to look away.

His fingers hovered near your jaw but didn’t touch. Not yet.

A pause.

Then, quietly—

“Nice eyes.”

His head tilted slightly, studying the way they reflected him. Not admiration. Not exactly. Something more precise. Measured.

His gaze dropped.

“Nose.”

Closer now. Close enough that you could feel his breath, steady and calm, like none of this was unusual to him.

Then your lips.

He stopped there.

Longer than before.

“…Lips.”

The word came softer. Not unsure—just slower. Like he was thinking about it.

Another pause.

This time, his fingers did move—barely brushing along your jaw, testing, confirming something only he understood.

His expression didn’t change.

But he didn’t pull away either.

Not immediately.

Like he wasn’t done looking.