[redith].
By the ti we stepped onto the rooftop, the sun was already dipping low, painting the sky in warm streaks of gold and lavender.
A gentle breeze rolled through, carrying the faint scents of pine and stone from the surrounding grounds.
Dennis was already there. He had already set everything up with dramatic flair—a small table, three bowls, and a ridiculous amount of ice cream, arranged as if he were presenting a royal feast instead of dessert.
He looked entirely too proud of himself.
"Took you long enough," he said, folding his arms. "I was starting to think my brother got distracted."
Draven snorted and took a seat beside on the low bench. I followed, close enough that our shoulders brushed.
Then, Dennis handed us our bowls. "Before you ask—yes, I made extra. And yes, redith, I rembered you like the vanilla-flavoured ones more."
I blinked, surprised. "You rembered that?"
He grinned. "I’m offended you would think otherwise."
I laughed softly and took a spoonful. Cold, sweet, and creamy—it was perfect. I hadn’t realized how much I needed sothing so simple until now.
In the corner of my heart, I was grateful to Dennis for suggesting and planning this.
For a few monts, we ate in comfortable silence. The wind played with my ponytail. Draven’s knee brushed mine.
The estate below us felt distant, quieter, like the world had agreed to leave us alone for a while. However, Dennis, naturally, ruined it.
"You know," he said casually, scooping an obscene amount into his mouth, "watching you two today was enlightening."
Draven didn’t look up. "Finish that sentence carefully."
"Oh, relax. I just an"—Dennis waved his spoon between us—"you have officially turned my terrifying Alpha brother into a glorified shelf-holder and cleaner."
I smirked into my ice cream while Draven leaned back, unbothered. "And yet, you carried more bags than anyone."
Dennis scoffed. "Because I was forced to, okay? You literally did that."
I raised an eyebrow. "You volunteered."
"That’s propaganda."
Draven’s arm slid behind then, resting comfortably along the back of the bench. I leaned into him without thinking, and he let , his thumb brushing absently against my shoulder.
The gesture did sothing warm and steady inside my chest.
Dennis watched us for a second longer than usual, then shook his head. "Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting."
I laughed. "You are just jealous."
"Of what?" he asked. "Dostic bliss? Herbal fus? Being ordered around?"
"All of it," I said sweetly.
He rolled his eyes but smiled anyway.
As the sky darkened and the breeze cooled, I found myself relaxing in a way I hadn’t in days. The worries didn’t disappear, but they softened, pushed aside by laughter, sugar, and the quiet certainty of Draven beside .
---
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chi, and the cool hush of the ground floor greeted us.
I stepped out beside Draven, still relaxed from the rooftop, my fingers loosely hooked into his hand, until I saw Xamira.
She was standing just a few steps away with her nanny, clutching a small wooden toy, her dark curls bouncing as she turned at the sound of the elevator.
My breath caught. For a split second, my body reacted before my mind could catch up—muscles tightening, instincts flaring, and every sense sharpening.
But then she smiled and ran straight into .
"My lady!" she cried, arms wrapping around my waist with all the strength her small body could muster.
I froze only for a heartbeat. Then I forced myself to move, to breathe, to bend and return the embrace like nothing inside had just gone rigid.
I smoothed a hand over her hair, schooling my face into sothing warm, sothing safe.
"Hello, little star," I said softly.
She pulled back just enough to grin up at , then turned imdiately to Draven, hugging his legs. "Daddy!"
Draven chuckled and ruffled her hair. "There you are."
Her smile faltered almost instantly, lips turning downward into a small pout. "You both disappeared," she said accusingly. "I haven’t seen you in days. It’s so lonely."
The word hit harder than it should have. Lonely.
Sothing twisted in my chest—sharp, uncomfortable, and undeserved. But before I could figure out what to say, Valmora snorted in my head.
"Hmph. Overdramatic."
I swallowed a gulp of air.
At the sa ti, Draven knelt smoothly in front of Xamira, steady as ever. "We’ve been very busy," he explained gently. "redith has an important event coming up. It’s taking a lot of preparation."
Xamira’s eyes widened. Slowly, they slid to . "An event?" she asked, hopeful. "Can I help?"
The question landed like a trap snapping shut.
"No," I said imdiately. My reply was too fast and too sharp.
But as soon as I saw her shoulders droop just a little, regret washed over instantly.
I cursed myself inwardly, then knelt down so we were eye level. "I’m sorry," I said carefully. "That ca out wrong."
She watched closely—too closely for comfort.
"This event," I continued, choosing every word, "is for adults. There are things that could hurt little hands, and I would worry the whole ti instead of doing things properly."
She considered that with pursed lips.
"But," I added quickly, "once it’s over, I promise I will co visit you. Just us. We can draw together."
Her eyes lit up again, though there was still a trace of disappointnt lingering behind them. "Promise?"
"I promise," I said, aning it.
She nodded, satisfied enough, and took her nanny’s hand when it was offered.
As they walked away, I straightened slowly, my heart pounding far too loudly for such an ordinary interaction.
Draven silently squeezed my hand once in a reassuring manner.
I let out a quiet breath I’ve been holding and thought to myself, ’Two weeks. Just two weeks.’
And for the first ti, relief tasted bitter in my mouth.
If it were possible, I would stretch these two weeks into two long years. Unfortunately, hiding and purposely avoiding Xamira would not bring any solution.
I had to face her sohow.
Reviews
All reviews (0)