Faced with Morrison’s gentle concern, Lilian didn’t dare tell him the truth—that their mothers had arranged for her to go on a blind date with his younger brother.
In the end, she could only dodge the question, vaguely blaming her foul mood on "family stuff."
She thought that would be the end of it and they could hang up, but Morrison, having caught on to her low spirits, suddenly suggested:
"Have you eaten yet? If you’re done, co out for a bit. Let’s et."
"Eh?"
Lilian frowned, her heart already tied up in knots.
"It’s New Year’s. I don’t think that’s a good idea..."
She was far too anxious to enjoy seeing him.
But Morrison wasn’t so easily brushed off.
"Precisely because it’s New Year’s, we should see each other. Co out and give your big brother a New Year’s greeting. I’ll give you a red envelope."
He referred to himself as her "big brother" in a tone that was anything but brotherly. In her ears, that word was laced with teasing heat.
Big brother, huh...?
He definitely didn’t sound anything like her actual brother Dave.
That very thought reminded her—Dave! He was still sitting in the living room chatting with their mother. If she tried to go out now, Dave would no doubt insist on personally escorting her like so overprotective knight.
Morrison, knowing all too well how seriously Dave guarded his little sister, sighed in defeat.
"Alright then... just co out once he leaves."
"Okay," she replied with a tiny nod, figuring she could just agree for now. Dave probably wouldn’t leave until late. By then, Morrison would’ve likely forgotten he even asked.
After ending the call, Lilian returned to the living room to chat with Dave and Tiffany.
Dave asked about her internship at MOS Corp over the past six months. She smiled and said it was going great.
And it was—thanks to Morrison quietly arranging for the finance departnt to look out for her, she’d received nothing but warmth and support. Anyti she had a question, colleagues were eager to help. She really had learned a lot and grown as a professional.
She felt genuinely fulfilled and proud of herself.
Looking back, her life had been unusually smooth. School had gone without a hitch—every exam, every application, every goal she’d set for herself had been achieved.
Of course, none of it had co easily. It had all been earned through her own hard work.
Work had been going smoothly too.
After joining MOS Corp., she’d learned so much.
She was truly grateful to her parents for raising her in such a stable and privileged environnt, and she was equally grateful to Dave—for stepping up and carrying the weight of Washington Co. on his shoulders, allowing her to live her life freely, without worries.
She cherished everything she had.
And perhaps because of that, she was always smiling, always content.
Of course, there were monts of frustration—but nothing too serious. Most of the ti, she chose to simply forget them.
Like back in school, when Angela had constantly picked on her—she had never taken it to heart.
Now, Dave turned to her and asked,
"After the New Year... would you consider joining Washington Co.?"
He had been thinking that six months was long enough. She’d gotten good training at MOS Corp., and it was ti to bring her ho.
In his eyes, staying in the finance departnt of soone else’s company wasn’t a long-term plan.
Lilian froze.
She hadn’t expected that.
Nibbling on her lower lip, she hesitated for a long ti before shaking her head.
"I still feel like... I’ve only scratched the surface."
Truth be told, when Dave ntioned leaving MOS Corp., she felt a pang of resistance.
She wasn’t even sure who or what she was reluctant to part with.
Was it her warm and supportive colleagues in the finance departnt?
Or... was it soone else entirely?
Soone who had been nothing but gentle and indulgent with her?
Yes—Morrison.
He doted on her in his own way.
Sure, he teased her sotis, flirted shalessly, even played the occasional rogue—but beyond that, he treated her with an affection that was steady and real.
This relationship... it was one she felt deeply content in.
Every little thing a woman hoped to receive in love—he had given her all of it.
Romance.
Warmth.
Sweetness.
So she told Dave no.
And Dave didn’t push. He simply said:
"Whatever you want."
Dave didn’t leave until just before midnight, when Tiffany finally lost the battle to sleep and dozed off on the couch.
Lilian had planned to stay the night with her mother anyway, and after Dave left, sleepiness crept in. She washed up and got ready for bed.
She had just curled under the covers when her phone rang, the sound jolting her back into full consciousness.
Frowning slightly, she reached for it.
Morrison.
He hadn’t gone to bed yet?
She picked up, and his deep voice ca through the line, low and magnetic:
"Co out. Your brother’s gone, hasn’t he?"
Lilian blinked, startled.
"W-What? How did you know he left?"
From the other end, his voice dropped another octave, calm and unhurried.
"I’m downstairs."
For a mont, it felt like her heart clenched up and stopped altogether. She stared blankly at the ceiling, the phone still pressed to her ear, stunned into silence.
How long had he been waiting?
Up until now, Lilian had always believed Morrison’s tenderness—his attention, his patience, his affection—was just part of the "teaching" process.
He was "educating" her about love, wasn’t he?
But now, in this mont... she wasn’t sure anymore.
Was it real?
Was any of it real?
Her chest tightened with a strange kind of confusion. Sothing heavy and unfamiliar.
She whispered, her voice barely audible,
"How long have you been waiting?"
"Not long," he said with a soft chuckle. "I’d just arrived when I saw your brother drive off."
His tone was light, as though it was no big deal. Then he added, a little more coaxingly:
"Co down. I’ll take you to see the fireworks."
To be honest, she hadn’t really planned on seeing him tonight. But now that he was already downstairs waiting for her... it would feel wrong to turn him down.
And thankfully, Tiffany was fast asleep by now.
That was the only reason Lilian could sneak out without worrying about being stopped—because there was no way her mother would’ve let her out of the house this late otherwise.
The early days of the new year were still bitterly cold, the air sharp and stinging.
She bundled herself up in a long down coat, thick and warm, pulling on her knit hat and gloves before tiptoeing out into the night.
As soon as she stepped out of the building, she saw him.
The man stood not far off, dressed in a long black coat that seed to lt into the night.
He looked mysterious, elegant—like the night itself had ford a silhouette and co to life.
Morrison didn’t move, only stood there quietly, watching as she hopped and skipped toward him, bundled up in layers of thick winter clothing. Her eyes sparkled brighter than the stars above, and just the sight of her made a quiet warmth spread through his chest.
He reached out a hand to her.
Lilian slipped off her glove and placed her small hand into his, only to flinch at how cold his palm was.
"You said you just got here. Why are your hands so cold?"
Morrison smiled faintly.
"It’s freezing tonight. A few minutes of standing is enough to chill anyone."
The truth was, he had left ho not long after their call.
There wasn’t much for him to do there anyway—just a quiet dinner with Lady Tiffany and his parents, and a short video call with Karl, who was still in the States. That nerd practically lived in his lab and didn’t even co ho for New Year’s. Morrison could never understand how scientific research could be more appealing than a holiday with family.
He had driven straight to Tiffany’s neighborhood, spotted Dave’s car downstairs, and realized her brother hadn’t left yet.
He didn’t want to drive all the way ho only to co back again, so he parked in a more secluded corner and waited in the car.
He waited until Dave finally left.
Then he stepped out into the night and called her.
The waiting had chilled him.
Lilian quietly pulled her hand from his, causing him to glance down in confusion. But then he watched her take her own fluffy glove and try to slide it over his much larger hand.
She mumbled under her breath as she tried:
"I should’ve co down sooner..."
Of course, the glove only fit over the tips of his fingers—it looked utterly ridiculous.
She let out a frustrated sigh.
"Why are your hands so big..."
Morrison chuckled, touched by the gesture despite how silly it looked.
He pulled the glove off and took her hand again, lacing his cold fingers with hers.
"Once we’re in the car, it’ll be warm."
They got into his car, and as the heater started to hum, the cold quickly faded.
Morrison wrapped an arm around her and gently pulled her into his chest, his slightly chilled lips finding hers as they kissed, warm and lingering.
It had been half a year.
By now, Lilian was no longer shy about kissing. She had beco used to his touch, to the way he would tease her, and sotis—especially when she’d made him angry—she’d even be the one to initiate a kiss to make it up to him.
When the kiss ended, her cheeks were flushed a delicate pink as she nestled against him, her voice a soft murmur against his chest.
"You said we’re going to see fireworks... Where are we watching from? Is it far? I’m worried my mom might wake up and find I’m gone..."
Morrison gave a quiet laugh, brushing her hair gently.
"It’s not far. Actually... we can watch them anywhere you want."
She lifted her head slightly, brows furrowed in confusion.
"What do you an?"
Morrison’s hand gently brushed against her soft, delicate cheek.
"I bought a whole bunch before the holiday," he said, voice low and indulgent. "They’re all in the trunk right now. We’ll find a quiet spot nearby and light them ourselves."
Lilian pouted, lips curving downward in exaggerated displeasure.
"So when you said we’d watch beautiful fireworks, what you really ant was... we’re setting them off ourselves?"
She shot him a glare.
"Big liar. There’s nothing beautiful about lighting them yourself!"
Despite her protests, the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her. She was already looking forward to it.
Morrison chuckled, seeing right through her.
"You say one thing, but your eyes tell another, little miss contradiction."
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