Run With The Devil

Reaffirming Bonds

Deon's pov

The next day was a quiet one, with everyone taking a well-deserved break after the masquerade. The mansion was bathed in soft morning light, and the air was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I found myself in the kitchen, working on a few things while reflecting on the events of the previous night.

Lyra had stayed close by since the incident, her confidence slowly returning after our heart-to-heart in the bathroom. She was still wearing those comfortable shorts and my oversized shirt, looking both casual and alluring in a way that had become all too familiar. I could sense the vulnerability in her from time to time, and it drove me to be even more supportive.

As I busied myself with preparing breakfast, I heard her footsteps approaching. She entered the kitchen, her presence instantly bringing a sense of warmth to the space. I glanced over my shoulder and caught her eye.

"Morning," I said, trying to sound casual despite the fact that I was acutely aware of her every movement. "You want something to eat?"

She nodded, her hair falling in loose waves around her face. "Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks, Deon."

I nodded and handed her a plate with some scrambled eggs and toast. She took it with a grateful smile and sat down at the kitchen island. I couldn't help but notice how the morning light played off her features, highlighting the scars that she had begun to embrace more openly.

"I see you're still rocking my shirt," I said, teasingly. "It seems to be a favorite of yours."

She chuckled softly, taking a bite of her breakfast. "It's comfortable. Plus, it reminds me of you."

I felt a smile tug at the corner of my lips. "Well, I'm glad you like it. You look good in it."

Her eyes met mine, and there was a softness in her gaze that spoke volumes. "Thanks, Deon. I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

I raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh? What's on your mind?"

She hesitated for a moment, looking down at her plate before meeting my eyes again. "Last night, when you helped me take off the foundation... I felt really vulnerable, but also cared for. I guess I just want you to know that I appreciate how you're always there for me."

I walked around the island and leaned against it, close enough to be within arm's reach. "It's my pleasure, Lyra. I want you to feel supported and loved, no matter what. Those scars don't change how I see you. They're a part of your story, and I'm here for all of it."

Her smile widened, and she reached out to touch my hand briefly. "You really know how to make someone feel special. I don't think I've ever had anyone care for me the way you do."

I gently squeezed her hand, feeling a deep connection between us. "That's because you're special, Lyra. You've been through a lot, and I admire your strength. If there's ever anything you need, just tell me."

She nodded, looking more relaxed than she had in a while. "There is one thing I've been thinking about. I want to be more open about my past and my abilities, not just with you but with everyone. I think it's time for me to stop hiding and start facing things head-on."

I could see the determination in her eyes, and it made me proud. "That's a brave decision. And I'll support you every step of the way. You don't have to do it alone."

We spent the rest of the morning talking about her plans and how she wanted to approach her past and abilities. It was a conversation filled with hope and reassurance, and I felt a renewed sense of commitment to supporting her in whatever she chose to do.