The Princess and The Criminal [ CAITVI ]

19 | Close Quarters

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Caitlyn's POV
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"So, is this going to be a nightly thing, or should I start charging rent?"

My heart skipped into my throat as Vi's voice pierced the silence, husky with drowsiness and tinged by the faint scent of alcohol.

I jerked away from her, like I'd been caught doing something scandalous—and, in hindsight, it probably made me look guiltier.
"You—you're awake?"

She cracked an eye open, a lazy smirk tugging at her lips. "Have been for a while, princess. Didn't expect to see you crawling back in here, though."

My cheeks burned, and I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, hoping it might shield me from the mortification. "I was cold," I snapped, more defensive than I intended. "That's all."

"Mm-hm," she drawled, stretching languidly, her movements casual in the way that only she could pull off—like she'd planned this whole thing just to get a rise out of me. "Just cold, huh?"

I glared at her, my hands still gripping the edge of the blanket like it was a lifeline. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Well, isn't that's considerate of you. Real thoughtful." She tilted her head, her eyes tracking me in that way that made me feel far too exposed. "Though, sneaking into bed with me for the second night in a row? Bold move."

I bristled, the heat in my cheeks intensifying. "I wasn't sneaking."

"Sure you weren't." Her tone clear mockery, but there was something softer beneath it, something almost... fond?

I clenched my jaw, failing to suppress my irritation. "You're unbearable."

"Yet, somehow, you keep ending up here."

I opened my mouth to retort, but nothing came out. She wasn't wrong, and that only made it worse. Instead, I exhaled, pulling the blanket tighter around me as I turned my back to her.

"Go to sleep, Vi."

There was a long pause, but then, just as I was starting to drift off—I heard her voice again, quieter this time.

"Good night, Caitlyn."

Hearing her use my name caught me off guard, but I didn't respond. Instead, I shut my eyes tightly, trying to block out the whirlwind of thoughts that refused to settle.

I latched onto the only thing that felt steady: the rise and fall of my breaths. Rhythmic. Simple. I focused on the sound, on the faint pull of air in my lungs, using it to calm the chaos in my head. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep me tethered, if only for a moment.

I was on the edge of sleep—the kind where you're still half-aware of everything, yet your body starts to relax into the silence. But then, something shifted.

At first, it was so subtle I almost missed it. Vi moved, just a little, the warmth of her body creeping closer and closing the already precarious space between us.

I held my breath, willing myself to ignore it.

It's nothing. She's just trying to get comfortable.

But, of course, she wasn't.

Her breath skimmed the back of my neck, soft and warm, sending an unexpected flutter down my spine. I tensed, the faint sensation sharp enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

I didn't want to react. I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much her closeness was unsettling me. And more than that, I didn't want to acknowledge the heat pooling under my skin from something as insignificant as the sound of her breathing.