Torn between two evils

I stepped into the hallway, but I didn't get far before Mattheo fell into step beside me.

"Still mad at me, love?" he asked, his tone teasing.

"I was never mad," I said without looking at him.

"Good." He grinned. "Because I'd hate for you to stay angry. It's bad for your complexion."

I rolled my eyes, quickening my pace, but he easily kept up.

"You know," he said, his voice softer now, "you're cute when you're flustered."

I stopped walking, turning to face him. "I'm not flustered."

"Really?" He stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "Because you look a little... pink."