Just as those words left Naomi’s mouth, she fell silent. She slowly lay down on the bed, pulling the duvet up over her head, not wanting to see Zylan. He chuckled, the sound filling the small space, as if they hadn’t just argued. His chuckle was low, almost affectionate, while Naomi seed to have forgotten they were still on the plane.
"We’re not arriving anyti soon, so rest, my little eaglet," he spoke, his tone low yet sohow playful. The warmth in his words was enough to soften the tension between them, even if it didn’t entirely erase it. But there was sothing in the way he called her "eaglet"—as though the nickna had been created just for her—that made her heart race a little faster.
Naomi felt him gently pull the duvet down, stopping just at her neck. Her breath caught in surprise, her heartbeat fluttering. Was he already lying down next to her? She hadn’t even realized it. But before she could say a word, she felt his presence close by, his hand lingering at the edge of the duvet. He’d positioned himself right beside her, sharing the sa space in a way that felt surprisingly intimate.
"If you don’t want here, I’ll sleep on the chair," he spoke, his voice low. Naomi gasped, realizing that while hiding beneath the duvet, she hadn’t noticed Zylan was already settled at her side. Her face flushed with embarrassnt, warmth rushing to her cheeks as her mind tried to catch up.
He started to stand, shifting slightly away from her, but her hand instinctively reached out, fingers curling into the fabric of his trousers, tugging gently. The movent surprised them both, and Zylan stiffened, montarily caught off guard by her boldness.
"I... I don’t mind... You’ll get a backache if you sleep on the chair," she murmured, turning her face to the side, hoping he wouldn’t notice the faint blush coloring her cheeks. Her voice had softened, barely above a whisper, as she tried to act casual. But there was no mistaking the way her heartbeat seed to echo loudly in her ears, and she couldn’t look him in the eyes.
A smirk played on Zylan’s lips as he took in his wife’s reaction, her blush giving away far more than she realized. Her quiet deanor, combined with her stubbornness, made her irresistibly endearing in ways he hadn’t anticipated.
He didn’t argue. Instead, he lay down beside her, resting on the bed. Naomi fell silent, her mind racing as she tried to process everything—the closeness, his warmth, the way her heartbeat felt erratic in his presence. Part of her wanted to say sothing, to fill the silence between them, but another part feared breaking this delicate mont.
"Are you feeling sleepy?" she asked softly, almost regretting the question as soon as the words left her lips. She hadn’t ant to sound so... concerned.
Zylan didn’t respond imdiately, his eyes still closed, his face relaxed yet unreadable. She watched him carefully, wondering if he was drifting off to sleep or rely avoiding her gaze. The way he lay beside her felt so natural yet sohow unsettling, as though every small gesture carried a hidden aning she couldn’t quite decipher.
She noticed his eyes were closed, just like earlier, his breathing steady. But she couldn’t tell if he was truly asleep or simply pretending. The uncertainty made her hesitate, wondering if she should ask him directly. Before she could decide, his voice cut through the silence.
"Do you have sothing to say?" he asked, his tone calm, his eyes still closed.
Naomi’s heart began to race, her pulse pounding in her ears. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to say; all she knew was that his presence made it impossible to think clearly. Every small gesture, every word, every glance—it all felt too good to be true, like she was caught in a strange dream she didn’t want to wake up from.
"You... you said you would explain things to ," she murmured, her voice hesitant.
His eyes opened, and he turned to face her, his gaze intense. Their faces were so close now, she could feel his breath mingling with hers, so close it was as if they were sharing the sa air. Her heart skipped a beat, and for a mont, she forgot how to breathe.
"Are you sure you want to know why I’m doing this?" he asked, his voice low and serious.
Naomi’s breath hitched. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to kiss him, even though this was supposed to be a serious conversation. Her pulse quickened, and her eyes flickered down to his lips for a brief mont before she forced herself to look away, embarrassed. She gave a small, barely perceptible nod, signaling that she wanted to hear what he had to say.
In a swift motion, Zylan pulled back, sitting up on the bed, putting a slight distance between them. The shift left her feeling unexpectedly cold, as though sothing precious had been taken away. She watched him carefully, waiting, her mind brimming with questions.
"I need a partner," he began, his tone steady, almost matter-of-fact. "Soone to stand by my side during certain etings, soone who can be there when it matters." He paused, his eyes eting hers, as if weighing each word carefully. "Just as you have a family rule about becoming a reverend sister, I have one too. I must... get married."
Naomi’s expression softened as she absorbed his words. It made sense in a strange way, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it, sothing he wasn’t saying. She nodded, understanding as best she could, though questions still lingered in her mind.
"So... does that an I’d be traveling with you around the world?" she asked, unable to hide the hint of excitent in her voice. She tried to keep her tone neutral, but the idea of traveling, of exploring places beyond her family’s expectations, made her heart race with anticipation.
Zylan’s pupils dilated slightly as he took in her reaction. The way she made it sound as though they’d be adventurers, exploring unknown lands together—it was almost endearing. He hadn’t anticipated this level of enthusiasm from her, and for a mont, he was caught off guard.
"Not exactly. There are etings, but it’s not quite as it seems, little eaglet," he replied, his tone softening just a bit.
Naomi bit her lip, excitent bubbling over despite his vague response. She didn’t mind the details as long as it ant being by his side, traveling, experiencing sothing different. She’d always yearned for a sense of freedom, a chance to escape her family’s relentless expectations and the constant comparisons to her sister. The thought of finally breaking free from that mold filled her with a sense of exhilaration she could barely contain.
Little did he know that her excitent wasn’t just about the travel. It was the idea of escaping a life that felt like a cage, a life where she was always seen as less than, always compared to others, always reminded of the limitations placed upon her. Zylan watched her with a curious expression, wondering at her excitent. He’d expected resistance, maybe even anger. But the light in her eyes, the genuine enthusiasm—it was almost enough to make him question his own reasons.
He caught himself staring at her lips as she bit down on them, an unbidden urge rising within him. Her presence, her warmth, the way she looked at him—it was dangerous. She was dangerous, like a warning sign that dared him to venture closer, knowing full well there was no turning back.
"Alright then, I’m fine with that," she replied, her tone light. "But... does that an, after all these etings, we could finally divorce?" She asked the question innocently, but there was a hint of curiosity, as if she hadn’t entirely thought through the implications.
The atmosphere around them felt charged, like an electric current had filled the room, and it took Naomi by surprise.
"Yes," he replied, his voice flat and tight, as if the re thought of it was unbearable. His gaze beca unreadable, and for a mont, she wondered if she’d said sothing wrong.
Naomi blinked, trying to gauge his reaction. There was sothing in his eyes she couldn’t quite understand, sothing almost... possessive.
"So... that ans I could marry soone else?" she continued, her tone lighthearted, not fully realizing the impact her words would have.
Zylan froze, his entire body going rigid at her words. Marry soone else? The re thought was unacceptable, inconceivable. He felt his chest tighten, an unfamiliar sensation washing over him. Who would she marry? Who was this hypothetical person she thought would replace him? The idea alone made his blood run cold.
He was as still as a statue, so unmoving that even the Statue of Liberty would have seed more animated in comparison. Why had she even said that? Not that Naomi ant it; she was simply speaking hypothetically, unaware of how those words cut through him like a blade.
"Sleep. That’s enough," he said, his voice returning to its usual calm, though there was an edge to it that hadn’t been there before. His expression was unreadable once again, a mask of cool indifference.
"But..." Naomi began, but she quickly swallowed the rest of her words. The look in his eyes was enough to silence her, a warning that spoke louder than any words ever could.
"No more questions, Naomi."
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