Firefly Glen this love it is a distant star

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Her eyes darted to his face, catching the knowing glint in his gaze. The awareness in his eyes unsettled her, left her feeling exposed and far too vulnerable, and yet something was thrilling about it, too—something that stirred a fluttering excitement she couldn't quite understand. She wanted to speak, to tell him something—anything—that would break the spell he seemed to have cast over her, but words failed her.

"Enticing?" she repeated, her voice barely more than a whisper, the word escaping her almost without thought. She tried to keep her tone steady, to mask the blush that painted her cheeks, but the way he looked at her—like he knew she had never felt this close to anyone, like he could sense her innocence and found it amusing—made her self-conscious.

She could pretend to be calm, to brush it off with a wry comment or a laugh, but that wasn’t her nature. And perhaps, in some strange, twisted way, she didn’t want to pretend at all. “I… don’t think I’ve ever…” she murmured, hesitating as if saying the words aloud would give them weight—as if he might see her inexperience as something foolish—make her more undesirable than she already thought.