Clarissa turned to leave. His gaze followed her until she reached the door.
Atticus remained still for a mont, his thoughts drifting. He looked at the space where she had just stood, and for a fleeting second, the faintest scent lingered in the air. It was light—delicate, even—a fragrance that made the air feel a little more... alive.
He shook the thought from his head. Sitting back at his desk, he absentmindedly spun a pen between his fingers, letting his mind wander.
A sketch slowly took shape on the paper in front of him—a delicate, intricate crabapple flower blooming in the center of the page. It seed to appear from nowhere, lines flowing as if he’d known them by heart.
His focus was absolute as he worked, lost in the rhythm of the strokes, the evening air settling around him.
......
The weekend arrived, and Clarissa decided to take Atticus out to pick out a new phone for him. As soon as they walked into the store, the clerks couldn't help but notice them. Both of them were strikingly good-looking, and it wasn’t long before the store staff rushed over, eager to help.
Clarissa scanned the display cases, her eyes landing on a sleek phone with a stunning color. "Let’s go with this one. I like the color."
The clerk smiled brightly. "Miss, you have excellent taste. This just launched two days ago. The specs are top-tier, and it’s fantastic for gaming. Is this your brother? This phone is perfect for soone who plays gas."
Clarissa handed the phone to Atticus. "Try it out."
Atticus took the phone, flicking through it with a practiced hand before glancing up at her. "Let’s take this one."
"Are you sure? Don’t you want to look at other options?" Clarissa asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No. Let’s go with this one."
Clarissa smiled, turning to the clerk. "Give a new one, please."
"Of course, Miss. Please follow ."
As they headed to the checkout, one of the male clerks turned to Atticus. "Your sister is gorgeous, and she bought you a new phone. You two must have a really good relationship."
Atticus looked over at Clarissa’s back. His lips parted slightly, his voice soft. "She’s not my sister."
The clerk blinked in surprise, but Atticus wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. He turned and walked toward Clarissa, his footsteps light but sure.
Clarissa heard him coming and turned around with a smile, her eyes bright. "There’s a lottery here. Do you want to try your luck?"
Atticus paused for a mont, his expression unreadable, before nodding. "Okay."
Clarissa handed him the box. "Then you can draw."
Atticus took a ball at random, his fingers brushing lightly against the others in the box before pulling one out.
Clarissa looked at the slip and her eyes widened. "What’s this?"
The staff mber at the counter looked over, his eyes going wide when he saw the prize slip. "Wait... Congratulations, you’ve won the special prize! One million dollars!" It was the grand prize, and no one had won it for the last three months.
She couldn’t believe it. She looked down at Atticus, who had no reaction, his expression calm as ever.
Since the prize required registration which needed ti, Clarissa decided to get a custom dress made for herself.
Atticus, anwhile, silently observed everything, his gaze flickering over the clothing tags. His eyes caught a price, and he stared at the number with quiet intensity, the string of zeros making his expression montarily unreadable.
Clarissa, noticing his distant look, looked back at him. "You’ve been looking at those prices for a while."
Atticus looked up at her, his lips curling just slightly. "Why are you buying a dress?"
Clarissa paused, chewing on a snack she had grabbed earlier. "I’m going to my ex-fiancé’s engagent party in a few days."
Atticus stopped walking, his brows furrowing. "Is it that man, Dorian?"
Clarissa raised an eyebrow. "You know him?"
"I’ve heard of him..." Atticus answered. The na was familiar—Dorian Harrington, president of the massive Harrington Group, a business tycoon with power and influence on par with so countries. Atticus had seen him on the news often enough.
Clarissa nodded, giving him a small smile. "Yeah, it’s him."
Without another word, Atticus handed Clarissa the check. "Here. This is for you."
Clarissa blinked in surprise. "Give it to ? All of it?" Her voice held a playful edge as she teased him. "Hundreds of thousands... just like that?"
Atticus, looking straight at her, gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Yes. I didn't have any left. Rember, our agreent still stands."
Clarissa’s smile faltered for a brief mont. She looked at him, her gaze softening. He looked... vulnerable. It was as if he was afraid. Afraid of being abandoned again. Afraid of being alone.
Her heart tugged unexpectedly. She reached out, taking the check from his hand. "I’ll keep it for now, okay? I’ll give it back to you when you co of age."
Clarissa smiled at him again, reaching into her bag to pull out a red bean rice cake. She stuffed it into his mouth, poking it playfully between her fingers. "Here, have this. You're doing great. This is a little reward for you."
Atticus didn’t say anything, but he hesitated for a mont before chewing the soft, sweet cake. The taste was delicate—soft, chewy, and comforting.
"Is it good?" Clarissa asked, watching him closely.
Atticus blinked. "Yeah..." His voice trailed off, absent-minded.
Clarissa felt a warmth in her chest. She had never seen him so... unguarded. It was rare to see him like this. His usual maturity was always at the forefront, but now, for a brief mont, he was just a child.
Without thinking, Clarissa reached out and gently took his hand in hers. "Let’s go ho."
Atticus didn’t say anything at first, his body stiffening in surprise. Before he could respond, Clarissa smiled at him, and with a light tug, led him forward.
As the two of them walked, their shadows stretched long across the pavent, illuminated by the setting sun.
......
The Lancaster family's car wasn’t coming to pick up Clarissa until 5 p.m., so she took her ti getting ready for the engagent party.
Her dress was stunning—But there was one problem. The zipper.
It had gotten stuck halfway up her back. No matter how she twisted or stretched her arms, it wouldn’t budge—neither up nor down.
Clarissa sighed in frustration, reaching for her phone. She called Clentine, but there was no answer. She tried again. Still nothing. She figured Clentine must’ve been too busy shopping or caught up in the noise of the streets.
Ti was ticking, and she hadn’t even started her makeup. Defeated, she flopped down onto her bed, letting out a groan. "So annoying..."
After a few monts of silence, she sat up and glanced toward the door. "Atticus, are you there?"
Inside his room, Atticus was reading when he heard the knock. He closed his book and replied evenly, "Yeah. Co in."
The mont she stepped inside, Atticus stilled.
Clarissa was dressed in a pure white couture gown. At first glance, it seed simple, but under the soft light, intricate dark patterns shimred against the fabric, inlaid with tiny diamonds.
The high collar accentuated her delicate collarbones and smooth, bare shoulders. The dress hugged the curves of her body, cinching at the waist with soft, cloud-like folds. The long skirt had a high slit along her thigh, revealing glimpses of her fair, slender legs as she moved.
Atticus felt his throat tighten. For the first ti, he found himself completely stunned. He quickly looked away, his fingers curling into his palms. A faint, unexplainable heat rose to his ears, hidden beneath his dark hair.
"Is there… sothing wrong?" His voice ca out lower than usual, restrained.
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