(Arata)
I woke up in my bed covered with my blanket. Being a heavy sleeper, I could only assu Karsten must have carried and tucked in.
The re thought made my cheeks heat up.
My hands went to my head, and I found my wig had been removed, and so were my glasses.
I glanced at the clock and it was just around 6 am.
The early morning hours and the sun’s first rays had just started to scatter.
I was sure he must have stayed, so I slowly made my way into the TV lounge to grab so water.
But I stopped dead in my tracks when I found the back of Karsten’s head sticking out of the lounger.
Was he asleep while sitting? What was he doing?
Intrigued, I stood on my toes and peeked through the side only to find him lost in reading. Not only so ordinary books but one of my smut books.
Why? Just why was the universe trying to humiliate in such a fashion?
Heat rose to my face and ears and I had to bite my lower lip. Craning my neck, I tried to see which page he was on. Was he reading the smut part?
"Very intriguing read, Arata," he called out, turning his head slightly and side-eyeing . The tip of his lip was upturned in amusent. "I hope you had a pleasant sleep."
"Ahm!" I cleared my throat. "You didn’t sleep?" Crossing to his side, I walked over and settled on the lounger beside him.
He quietly closed the book, removing the thumb keeping it open and slid it across my coffee table.
"I don’t get much sleep, perks of being a dark coffee drinker and also a smoker. I am addicted to caffeine and nicotine; believe , they are not good stimulants," he sighed.
"You should really consider your life choices. Smoking is injurious to health." I shook my head at him but he only pointed to my book and teasingly said.
"It kept good company."
Yeah! Just ignore what I said.
I did blush down to the roots of my hair and answered.
"I didn’t know you were into Romantasy."
"I read whatever intrigues and this was a good read. The series is very popular these days."
He wasn’t wrong, it was one of the best sellers in the world.
"Who is your favourite writer?" I asked, finally turning to him, understanding he was also a reader.
"Oscar Wilde," he answered without hesitation. I was reminded of what Miranda had told on the first day of my job. He had asked so candidates to get him a copy of the limited edition of "Picture of Dorian Grey."
"The man was ahead of his ti. He indeed was a gifted writer."
"You are a lady with taste. What about you?" The llowness in his voice was welcoming and I found myself gazing at his handso face. The morning light had ward his sharp features.
"My mom," I answered with a sincere smile and his brows shot up towards his hairline in astonishnt.
"She is a writer?" he asked in shock and I nodded lightly.
"That’s amazing. Do you as well?" He seed more intrigued now, his face seed soft today. His hands rested on his sturdy legs where the veins stood out against his tan skin.
"No, I am just a reader, not as gifted as my mother." Frankly, Mom was extrely talented, and I wondered how she knitted stories together and created such mouthwatering male characters.
"Have you ever tried?" He asked gently and I shook my head again.
"Well if you ever do, I will surely read. Why not give it a whirl?"
NO in all capital letters. I would die of embarrassnt if Karsten Chevalier had to read my writing.
"Yeah! That’s not happening." I shook my head so wildly that he lightly laughed. His eyes crinkled so cutely at the sides. He almost seed boyish when he laughed. It made wonder why he didn’t do it more often.
Was it because he didn’t have anyone to laugh with during childhood?
"Why not? It will be fun."
’That’s because I have been embarrassed in front of you to last a lifeti and I am not handing you more ammunition to laugh at my expense,’ I thought to myself.
"I think I will stick to reading," I declared, sagging lower into the lounger. He patted my head as if I was a five-year-old looking for validation.
"Let know if you ever change your mind."
Silence prevailed between us for a while when he broke it and finally asked, keeping his voice as soft as possible.
"Do you want to talk about last night? If you can, tell anything you rember."
My heart started to beat faster and faster at the reminder. The thought of soone out there who wished dead was not by any ans a pleasant one.
I cowered into myself, making myself small. My arms protectively went around . Karsten’s hand didn’t leave my head, and he gently rubbed it, trying to keep calm.
"I didn’t leave my bag unattended anywhere. But a man in a hoodie with a black cap on his head did collide with while I was leaving the last shop. It is possible he slipped the bird into my bag."
"Yes, I spoke to Caysir and he said the sa thing." He paused and rubbed his chin with his right hand as if in deep thought before speaking again.
"Look, Arata, I don’t know about your family history or if soone from your past is trying to hurt you. But if you can provide with any insight or clue on who it can be, it will help us in the investigation and keep you safe."
I stiffened at his words. Many enemies had occasionally tried to hurt my parents, Zaylen and . I wasn’t sure how I could reveal to him without telling him about my family.
Maybe I needed this ti away to think this through and decide what I needed to do on my return.
If there was anyone I could trust, it was Karsten, so maybe I could tell him who I was.
"Can we have this conversation on my return?" I tentatively asked and he assuredly nodded, his calculating gaze remaining focused on .
"All right. I will take you to the airport, go get ready."
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