My Only Person

Filler Chapter - 1

Helloooooooooooooooooo

Here are the long-awaited filler chapters. There are SEVEN in total. I'll be updating two today and the rest on Sunday, Inshallah.

I hope you enjoy them. I was literally smiling, laughing, and squealing like a teenager while writing these chapters. Since you guys love these two as much as I do, I'm sure you'll experience the same rush of emotions.

Please note that these are only filler chapters, so they do not impact the main story. Some bits might, but don't worry about it for now. My advise would be to read them for pure enjoyment. Also, I'm looking forward to the comments on these filler chapters! 

Okay, I'm done yapping. I'll leave you to enjoy!

---------------------------------

Clarissa's POV

"Honey," I called sweetly, perched on his lap while carefully shaving his beard.

"Hm," he responded, his eyes closed, hands loosely wrapped around my waist.

"I was thinking," I began, setting down the razor to inspect his face for any missed spots, "how about we have a cooking competition tomorrow?"

His eyes fluttered open, revealing beautiful purple orbs beneath his thick, long lashes. His face as expressionless as always when it pierced my grey eyes.

"Where is this coming from?" he asked.

I smiled nervously, picking up the razor again to attend to the spots I missed. "Just...randomly..."

He continued to scrutinize me, his gaze intense and intimidating as he pronounced one word, "No."

"Why not?" I asked, startled by his outright refusal, inadvertently nicking him in the process. His reaction was stoic as always, even when a drop of blood formed and trickled down his cheek, staining his handsome face, while the small wound healed as good as new.

I apologised, hastily setting down the razor in panic and wiping his face with a towel. Meanwhile, a soft look cascaded over his features, and he tightened his hold around me, explaining in a gentle tone, "You need to rest. Your body needs time to recover. I only allowed you to help me shave because you were throwing a fit."

I pouted at his choice of words. "I wasn't throwing a fit. It's just that you always fuss over me and neglect yourself, and..."

My gaze lowered, fidgeting with my fingers as I mumbled, "...your stubble itches my skin whenever we kiss..."

Putting his hand under my chin, he lifted my face to meet his gaze. "I understand. You can cook after you're fully healed. How does that sound?"

I shook my head adamantly. "No! I want to challenge you. I want to defeat you!"

I tried to remove his hand from around my waist to express my determination, but I couldn't; his grip was as vice as steel. Maybe because he was afraid of me falling from the chair, or maybe because he simply didn't want to let go of me; nonetheless, he didn't loosen his hold on me at all. I tried a few more times, but when he didn't budge, neither in expression nor action, I gave up and pointed a straight finger at him.

However, he didn't seem impressed in the slightest. He silently looked at me, his impassive stare and overwhelming presence making my pointed finger slightly tremble. Grasping onto my wavering courage, I said, stuttering, "I-If you won't accept my challenge, I'll think of you as a coward who is afraid to lose!"

"That's okay."

His unhesitating, smooth reply left me flummoxed. "What...?"

"You're right, I'm too afraid to lose." He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.