Enigma

19

I was terrified

"Tho it was always been the mating, or blind date thing, but you really think it is only for that thing?" There is something, and that is maybe I am not ready yet, I laugh as I pause and look at him.

He so clean, like a prince, he is having his pajama, with white sando, his bicepst are showing, bulky but clean, something the people should became crazy with...

I wake up from my imagination and now his face is infront  of me now, I cover my mouth preventing him to kiss me, tho we have been doing it for how many times, but still, it's inappropriate, he laugh while looking on my action.

“Tho it was always been the mating, or blind date thing,” I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice betrayed me. “But you really think it is only for that thing?”

There was something else.

Something beneath the glittering chandeliers and silk gowns.

Something I wasn’t ready for.

I let out a small laugh, more to calm myself than because it was funny, and looked at him.

That was a mistake.

He looked unfairly clean. Effortlessly composed. He was wearing simple pajamas — dark bottoms, white sando — but somehow he still looked like royalty even without the crown. His arms were exposed, defined but not exaggerated, the kind of strength that didn’t need to prove itself.

Anyone in the mansion would lose their mind seeing him like this.

Anyone in DE LA VENSITA would kneel.

And here he was — standing in front of me, in the dim hallway light, looking at me like I was the only thing in the world worth observing.

I blinked.

Stop staring.

But my mind betrayed me for a second too long.

And when I snapped out of it—

He was already closer.

Too close.

His face was suddenly inches from mine.

My breath caught.

Without thinking, I lifted my hand and covered his mouth just before he could close the distance.

“Don’t,” I whispered.

His lips curved against my palm.

He laughed softly, the vibration warm against my skin. Not mocking. Not annoyed.

Amused.

“You’re the one who was staring,” he said, voice muffled slightly by my hand.

Heat rushed to my face. “I was not.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You were.”

I slowly lowered my hand, but kept a bit of distance between us.

“We’re in the balcony,” I argued weakly. “Anyone could see.”

“No one is awake.”

“That’s not the point.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me.

“You’re shaking.”

I hated that he noticed everything.

“I’m not,” I lied.

He stepped closer again, not touching, but close enough that my back almost met the wall.