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(Arata)

My heart forgot to beat at his words. Did he really an that?

Or was he just trying to make feel better and forget the emotional turmoil I was facing?

I could never tell with this man.

Whatever it was, my tears did cease and I tried to genuinely smile.

"Not everyone seems to believe that," I quietly said and leaned back into the sofa. Karsten’s arm was behind ; it clutched mine, letting feel his warmth.

He emitted heat like a heater but I didn’t mind. My turmoiled heart needed it; the feathery brush of his fingers against my arm had a lullaby-like effect.

Bringing my legs up I pulled them closer to my chest while Karsten had his long ones spread out. It seed to be becoming a norm to sit like this on my sofa.

My greedy heart was bringing down all its defences and just sponging the care and affection he offered in those monts. I was still lost in the feeling of his soothing touch when he asked.

"Did you eat sothing?"

I shook my head. We had brought food on the way back, but now all my appetite was gone, and even the thought of food made want to retch.

"I am not hungry, but there is food in the take-out boxes. I didn’t even get the chance to dish it out."

"Hmm...one second." He slowly extracted his hand and got up to walk over to my open kitchen island. Caysir had stacked all the shopping bags there.

It was at that mont I noticed that Karsten was in a black tank top and night trousers that hugged his back tightly.

He must have been about to go to bed or maybe he had and had to rush here. I was thankful, though, and since the matter was such that we hadn’t disclosed it to anyone in the office, I couldn’t call Miranda.

Soon he erged with a plate of fries and chicken tenders with a strawberry drink I had grabbed with it.

Even the plate and my drink seed small in his large hands and against his herculean figure.

Who would believe that Karsten Chevalier would be bringing food like that for his secretary?

The re thought made a small smile appear on my lips as I watched him with my head on my knees and my chest.

Placing the plate down on the table, he positioned the carbonated drink beside it and softly said.

"Eat."

But my appetite was gone and all I could see was the crimson blood of that poor bird clinging to my palm and fingers.

I shook my head.

"I can’t....I..." My eyes wavered to my hands and I buried my head between my legs, unable to look at him.

Will he be disappointed to see how squirmish I was acting?

I felt the sofa dip beside and then his heat seeped into my back as his huge hand softly landed there. I heard the plate being picked up from the table.

"You know when I didn’t eat sothing as a child, what my grandma used to say?"

He had intrigued, and I tilted my head towards him without lifting it from my legs so I could watch him.

"What?"

He extended a fry towards . It had gotten a bit soggy and half bent between his thumb and finger.

"Moonbeam! I can see your na written on this so you have to eat or the food will cry. Similarly, I can see your na written on this fry; see how sad and wobbly it has gotten," he said in all seriousness, and I couldn’t hide the smile that was threatening to spill out.

He nudged at my lips with the fry and I slowly opened my mouth to accept it from him. He offered a nod of appreciation as if I were a five-year-old who had finished her share of leafy greens.

Having no appetite I took my ti to chew and gulp it down while he watched with satisfaction brimming in his eyes and offered.

"You are a brave girl. Now try one of these tender strips too."

I shook my head again, not wanting to eat it but his insistence didn’t dial down as he held it and then tilted his head so our gaze was in direct line of contact. His forehead relaxed, and his eyes softened with a sheen of hope.

Trying to smile he softly said.

"Please!"

I blinked and blinked again at him.

It wasn’t every day Karsten Chevalier said please, and I couldn’t refuse him after that gentle request.

Quietly, I opened my mouth and took a bite from his hand, and he patted my head with such affection as if I were his pet cat.

Maybe, I should start purring and buy so cat costus.

I would have if I hadn’t been in such a dismal mood but his touch did calm the frantic beatings of my heart.

Not only his physical nearness but there was sothing about his whole reassuring deanour that lightened the anxiousness within .

I quietly finished the tender strip and refused to eat more. This ti he didn’t insist, just offered a sip of the drink.

Revitalising it trickled down my throat, the sharpness of strawberry with the fizzines of the carbonated drink cooled . But I couldn’t drink more.

"Won’t you have anything?" I asked as Karsten cleared away the dishes.

He called out from the kitchen.

"I already had my dinner."

Leaning against the thick armrest of the sofa, I just closed my eyes and hoped the images of the dead bird wouldn’t co to haunt .

Soon sothing soft covered and my eyes opened a fraction to see Karsten covering with a blanket.

"Don’t leave..." I said quietly as he adjusted the blanket over and his heavy-lidded pensive gaze found as he said.

"I am not going anywhere. Try to rest, Arata."

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