Clementine, a social media manager with fiery red hair and emerald green eyes, was a contradiction. Shy in person, her mind buzzed with fascinating trivia just waiting for the right listener.
Sebastian Montgomery as the tabloids dubbed him, was an...
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Clem woke slowly, her senses clouded but returning bit by bit. The ache in her body, though still present, was duller now, as if the sharpness of her discomfort had been smoothed over with time. It was as though a fog had lifted, and she could breathe a little easier. But there was something else, a sense of strangeness, like her body was shifting beneath her, responding to something she couldn't quite name.
She felt a warmth she couldn't place, a comfort that was deeply familiar and yet foreign all at once. It wasn't the lingering fatigue from the accident; this was different. She stretched her legs out under the covers, her hands trailing over her stomach, and noticed how sore she felt. Her ribs, her back, her limbs—everything seemed to pulse with a dull ache. But what really unsettled her was the quiet thrum of something else. Something wasn't right, and her body knew it.
Her mind was still foggy, caught between the remnants of sleep and wakefulness, and the faint memories of the cab accident swirled in her thoughts. She had no recollection of everything that followed—just flashes of voices, bright lights, and the distant feeling of someone carrying her. It had been so fast, so chaotic. Was that why her body felt so wrong? Was it just the aftershocks of the crash?
She rubbed her forehead, trying to clear away the remnants of dizziness that lingered in her mind. The bed was large and soft, and she was wrapped in what felt like warm blankets. It smelled like him.
Sebastian.
The thought cut through the haze like a sharp knife. She blinked her eyes open fully, now aware of the presence of his smell lingering in the air—his cologne, the faint trace of his natural scent, something strong and grounded. She shifted slightly, trying to find her bearings.
And then she heard it—soft footsteps approaching, the sound of a door creaking open, and the faint rustling of fabric. She turned her head slowly, and there he was, standing at the side of the bed, his expression soft yet intense, his dark eyes scanning her carefully as if he was searching for something, some sign that she was okay.
"How are you feeling?" His voice was low, almost too gentle, a tone she wasn't used to from him. The strength in his words softened into something warm, something uncharacteristically tender.
Clem swallowed, trying to speak but finding her throat too dry. "Better," she managed. Her voice sounded hoarse. "But... I don't know." She shook her head, her fingers unconsciously clutching the edges of the blanket around her. "My body feels... off."
Sebastian's face tightened ever so slightly at her words, his gaze flicking over her with an unreadable intensity. He didn't respond right away, but his hand came up to brush a strand of hair away from her forehead, his touch light, but warm, comforting in its simplicity.
"You're still recovering," he said softly, his thumb caressing her forehead before pressing a gentle kiss to the spot he'd just touched. Clem's heart stuttered unexpectedly. There was something in the tenderness of his touch, in the warmth of his kiss, that felt more intimate than anything they'd shared before. He was... different with her now. Softer. As if he was afraid of breaking something.
