I turned my head to look at him and smiled lazily.
"Alright," I said softly. "I’m ready to learn. Carl... please teach ."
The mont the na left my lips, sothing in Lewis changed.
His gaze locked onto mine. Not sharp. Not cold. Bright. Almost startled. Like I had unlocked sothing he’d kept sealed away for years.
"What did you just call ?" he asked quietly.
"Carl," I repeated, confused.
For a second, he didn’t move. Then his arms ca around , firm and warm, pulling against him. His breath hitched, low and controlled, but I felt the tremor underneath it.
That na ant sothing to him.
To , it was only a forgotten sound.
But as his hold tightened, mories stirred.
Back then, I had been small and fearless.
Camilla and I had slipped away from the guards on a crowded afternoon. Everything was loud. Too loud. When she fell into the water, I didn’t think. I just ran and grabbed her hand.
The current was strong. Stronger than us.
Her fingers slid from mine.
The last thing I rembered was hitting my head on stone before everything went dark.
When I woke up, I was told I had been saved by the Hales. I thanked Julian, believing he was the one who pulled out. He never corrected .
From that day on, our families grew closer.
I visited often. Played. Laughed. Lived without fear.
One afternoon, I heard music drifting from the upper floor. Soft. Lonely. I followed it upstairs and pushed open the attic door.
That was when I saw him.
A pale boy sat at the piano, long fingers moving with quiet grace. He didn’t look real. Like soone cut out of a storybook and left behind by accident.
"Who are you?" I asked.
The music stopped.
He turned slowly, his eyes distant but calm. "Lewis Hale."
"Are you part of the Hales?"
"Kind of."
He answered everything I asked, even though his tone stayed cool. I didn’t know who he was back then. I only knew he felt different. Safe in a way I couldn’t explain.
I asked him to teach how to play.
He did.
Patiently. For hours.
"Carl," I said back then, watching his hands move. "Your fingers are so pretty. You play so well. Do you want to do this forever?"
He paused and looked at .
"What did you call ?"
"Carl," I said cheerfully. "Or should I call you sir?"
He didn’t correct .
That afternoon stayed with him longer than it stayed with .
Julian found out later. He was furious. Told Lewis was his uncle. Said he was strange. Said I shouldn’t go near him.
I didn’t understand. Lewis had been quiet, but kind.
Still, I believed Luke had saved . So when he made swear to stay away, I did.
And slowly, I forgot.
The na faded. The mory dulled. Lewis slipped out of my life like a dream I stopped reaching for.
But he never forgot.
Back in the present, his breath brushed my ear, hot now, restrained by force of will alone.
"Say it again," he murmured.
I frowned slightly, confused by the intensity in his voice.
"Carl..."
The sound barely left my mouth before he kissed .
This ti, there was no hesitation.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t rushed either. It felt like sothing breaking loose. Like years of control snapping all at once.
His grip tightened, steady and claiming, pulling closer until there was no space left to breathe.
His arms locked around my waist, tight enough that I couldn’t breathe properly.
It wasn’t pain exactly.
It was pressure.
The kind that made my body react before my mind could catch up.
"Carl... it hurts," I whispered. "You’re hurting ."
I didn’t even realize I was frowning until the words slipped out.
His body stiffened.
"I’m sorry," he said imdiately, his voice low and strained. "I didn’t an to."
His hold loosened, but he didn’t let go completely, like he was afraid I might disappear if he did.
"Should I blow on it?" he asked softly, trying to sound light.
"Sure," I murmured, still hazy. "Carl..."
I expected a soft breath.
Instead, his lips brushed my forehead.
Then my nose.
Then my mouth.
Slow. Careful. Like he was testing how much I could take.
His kisses trailed lower, warm and deliberate, until a cool rush of air touched my skin. I shivered and instinctively tried to cover myself, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt.
"Darling," he said gently, stopping my hands. "I haven’t finished yet."
His voice wasn’t commanding, but it carried weight. The kind that made resistance feel pointless.
I couldn’t tell if the room was too warm or if the wine was still burning through . My thoughts felt loose, drifting, while every touch pulled deeper into sensation.
His lips brushed along my skin inch by inch, sending tremors through my body that I didn’t know how to control.
I tilted my head back without aning to.
"Carl..." I whispered.
Sothing in him shifted.
His breath grew warr against my neck, his presence overwhelming. When his lips touched a place that felt new and terrifying, my whole body reacted, sharp and unfamiliar.
"Be good," he murmured close to my ear. "Open up."
..
Morning ca too fast.
Light spilled through the curtains, too bright, stabbing at my eyes. I raised my arm to shield my face, groaning softly.
My head throbbed. My body felt heavy. Sore in a way that made my stomach flip.
It reminded of knowing I shouldn’t give in, doing it anyway, and waking up unsure whether I regretted it or wanted it again.
"Darling," a familiar voice whispered near my ear. "Are you awake?"
The word jolted fully conscious.
I turned my head and t Lewis’s gaze.
Sothing uneasy crawled up my spine.
"Lewis," I asked slowly, "did sothing happen last night?"
He exhaled quietly. "You really need to stop drinking like that. You black out too easily."
"Oh."
"But," he added, his eyes darkening slightly, "with here, you’re safe."
There was sothing in the way he looked at that made my skin tighten. Not regret. Not apology. Sothing deeper. Possessive. Watchful.
I didn’t rember anything clearly.
But I didn’t need mory to understand one thing.
I was naked. Pressed against him. Wrapped in his arms like I belonged there.
A dull soreness lingered through my body as I stared at him, my voice barely steady.
"Last night... did we "
He lifted my chin gently, forcing to et his eyes. They were dark, unreadable, full of sothing that made my pulse jump.
In a rough, quiet voice, he asked,
"Do you wish we did... or that we didn’t?"
And suddenly, I wasn’t sure which answer scared more.
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