𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 ||𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐅𝐅🔞||

C H A P T E R : 21

I wake up because my arm is numb.

Not the bad kind. The familiar kind. The kind that comes from holding someone too close for too long and not wanting to move because the moment feels fragile.

She’s still asleep in my arms.

Curled into me like this is where she belongs. Like her body remembers before her mind does. Her head is resting against my chest, hair spread messily over my shoulder, her breathing soft and even. Every time she exhales, it brushes against my skin and reminds me that she’s here. Alive. Safe. Mine to protect.

I look down at her face.

She looks younger when she sleeps. The sharp edges fade. The fear quiets. Her lips are slightly parted, lashes resting against her cheeks, hands clutching my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.

I smile without meaning to.

It’s small. Almost painful.

I brush my thumb gently over her hair, careful not to wake her. She stirs a little, makes a soft sound, and presses closer. Her fingers tighten in the fabric of my shirt.

“Oppa…” she murmurs, barely awake.

“I’m here,” I whisper instinctively. “Sleep.”

That’s all it takes.

She relaxes again, melting into me like she trusts me with her life. That trust sits heavy in my chest. I don’t deserve it. Not after disappearing. Not after letting the world touch her without me there.

I stay like that for a few more seconds, just breathing with her, memorizing the weight of her, the warmth, the way she fits against me like she was made to.

Then I carefully shift.

Slow. Gentle. Every movement calculated so I don’t wake her.

I slide my arm out from under her head and lift her into my arms properly. She doesn’t wake. She just sighs softly and tucks her face into my neck, arms wrapping around me automatically.

That almost breaks me.

I carry her upstairs, the mansion quiet at this hour. The lights are dim, shadows stretching across the walls. Guards are stationed where they should be, but far enough away to give us privacy. Everyone here knows better than to interrupt this.

Her room is warm when I push the door open.

It doesn’t feel like her yet. Not fully. But it will.

I lay her down slowly on the bed, pulling the blanket over her, adjusting the pillow so her neck won’t ache later. She turns onto her side, one hand reaching out blindly.

I hesitate only for a second before letting her fingers wrap around mine.

Her grip tightens, even in her sleep.

My chest tightens with it.

“I won’t leave again,” I murmur quietly, more to myself than to her. “I swear.”

She doesn’t hear it.

But I mean it anyway.

I straighten up, step back, and stand there for a moment longer than necessary. Watching her breathe. Making sure she’s really asleep. Making sure nothing looks wrong.

Only then do I turn and leave, closing the door softly behind me.

Downstairs feels colder.