𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 » 𝐘𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐁.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟖 ;

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ; 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

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"Did I scare you too much...?"Aleric cautiously asked. He intended to frighten you with his act but seeing your terror-stricken face; he started to panic.

He completely turned white, mimicking a skin of a ghost when he felt your hands start trembling, crashing his knees down on the ground so he would look up at you. Even by doing so, he didn't release his grasp.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-I didn't mean to-"

"Yes. Very much."You let out an airy laugh. He wipes away your tears and lets his hand remain on your cheek, stroking it gently with his calloused thumb.

"I miss him."It came as a hushed whisper, and Aleric's gaze didn't leave you.

"Yeah, me too."He spoke, his larger hand made its way behind your head and let you rest on his shoulder for comfort while your body fell into his arms,

"I miss Noah too."

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Currently in a dilemma, Yuri fidgets his fingers in nervousness as he hides behind the wall. He didn't know why his instinct prompted him to hide after he spotted you hugging the tanned male.

Of course, a simple affectionate act caused millions of doubtful thoughts to run through his mind.

Who is he?

Why is he hugging you?

Why are you two so close?

Are you his wife?

He was too far away to eavesdropping the conversation that could clear his misunderstandings.

Liking someone's spouse was the most shameless and foolish action he could think of doing.

But here he is.

He slapped both his cheeks, feeling the sting upon them surfacing along the soft red hue to snap himself out of any negative ideas. So what if you like him? It's none of his bloody business.

"Don't be dumb, Yuri, "he scolded himself, fixating his white gloves and his tie, and took a deep breath. "It's not that you like her or anything."

"Her?"

"Yeah, the neighbor-"He paused after recognizing the feminine voice, pushing himself off the wall of a nearby store to look at you.

"You-!"He gasped, face slightly flushed, "How long- have you- here?!"

Perhaps he was too surprised by your emergence since he found himself couldn't form the correct grammar of his sentence. And yet, you understand him.

You gave him a light shrug, and he noticed your slightly puffy eyes.

"Long enough to watch you slapping yourself, maybe you should do that more often. The color looks great on your face."He scoffed at your sarcastic remarks, though he feared the color wasn't due to the pain.

He cleared his throat, "Do you have anything against that?"

"I do, perhaps."You said truthfully, hands shoved into the pockets of your cardigan. He saw your longing gaze before you flash him a smile. A smile yet he couldn't help to see how melancholic your eyes were as you spoke again, "I'm against everything about self-harm. You know you shouldn't hit your beautiful body for whatever reason you might have."

"I did that to focus."

"Oh?"He watches your eyes lit up in curiosity, "What's the reason for you doing so, sir?"

Rather not to elaborate any further, he waved you off, "Go vex someone else. I'm busy, currently."

"If slapping yourself counts as busy, perchance you should take a rest."You joke,

"Mr. Forger and his family will return soon. So, I'd like to kill some time and you can help me with that."

His lips parted to form syllables. Without giving him a chance to retort, you continued, "Or escort me home. I'd love to feel like having myself a bodyguard or a companion while walking home."

"Why would I?"

"I am a woman."

"So? You live close."He grunted despite, he is now walking next to you, matching each other steps without trying to. Don't get him wrong ladies, he only does this to return his sister's favor for protecting him since they were little, soever, the least he could do is to walk her neighbor home in one piece.

"I do. "You hummed, raising your palm to shield the light from the setting sun from obscuring your gaze. "But you make me feel safe."

There it is again, that flutter in his stomach.

Damn, you should look at how red his face was. He was frustrated at how the air was knocked out from his lungs by your simple words and your tranquil face basking beneath the orange rays, your irises coruscating reflecting the light slipping through the gaps of your fingers.

Maybe he should make an appointment with a doctor to remove the butterflies before they could start breeding in his abdomen. He had to question his sister later if she ever put chrysalis in her cookies.