Chapter 28 #3
I shift slightly, wincing. “Landed on it wrong. I don’t think anything’s broken, but… doesn’t feel great.”
“Alright,” he nods. “Let’s take a look.”
The exam itself is thorough and takes forever. He tests my vision, checks my reflexes, feels along my ribs and ankle. When he presses lightly on a certain spot near my lower leg, I flinch.
“Bruised, but not fractured,” he confirms. “You’ll be sore for a while, but no crutches necessary.”
Thank god.
“And the head injury?” Kai speaks up again, his voice even.
The doctor tilts my chin, checking my pupils. “Mild concussion, from what I can tell. Nothing serious, but you should be resting. No sudden movements, no stress, and definitely no more falling down stairs.”
I make a face. “Yeah, I’ll try to pencil that in.”
He doesn’t react at all to that, unsurprisingly. But he writes down a prescription for painkillers and hands it to Kai instead of me—because apparently, I can’t be trusted with my own wellbeing.
“She needs to ice the leg, rest, and avoid any more falling incidents,” he says dryly.
Kai nods once, tucking the prescription into his pocket.
And the doctor smiles. A knowing, slightly amused kind of smile. Then he gestures vaguely between us and says, “She’s lucky to have a kind, caring boyfriend like you.”
Oh my god.
My soul leaves my body.
Kai visibly stiffens.
For exactly two full seconds, neither of us say a single thing.
And then—at the exact same time—
“No.”
The word bursts out of both of us at once.
The doctor blinks. “Oh—”
I make a noise. A weird, strangled, horrified kind of noise. “We’re not— No. Not a thing. That’s not what’s happening. I—absolutely not.”
The doctor clearly doesn’t care about any of this. He just chuckles, shaking his head as he gathers his papers. “Alright, alright. Well, whatever you are, just make sure she rests.”
Kai hums, noncommittal.
I scowl, grabbing the ice pack and slamming it onto my leg with more force than necessary.
***
The car ride is quiet for the first few minutes, and I shift in my seat, adjusting the ice pack on my leg.
My whole body aches, my head is still pounding, and I’m exhausted. It’s fair to say that I’ve had better days.
“Give me your phone.”
My head jerks toward him. Not a question. A command. I’m suddenly up and alert again. Alert enough to side-eye him at least.
I don’t move. Just blink at him.
Kai stretches out his hand, palm up, patient but expectant. “Your phone.”
“For what?”
“Lilia sent you her address,” he says smoothly. “And unless you’d prefer we circle this city all night, I need it.”
With a sigh, I shove my phone into his hand and watch as he… types in my password?
I sit up. “Um, Kai?”
Kai doesn’t react. Just tilts the screen slightly away, scrolling through my messages like he has every right in the world to be there.
“How do you know my password?” I demand this time.
He looks at me for half a second—expression blank, revealing absolutely nothing—before his attention flicks back to the phone.
Oh, hell no.
“Hello?” I wave a hand in front of his face. Still nothing.
Instead, he leans forward and angles the phone toward the driver. “Postcode.”
After a few seconds, the driver nods, inputting the address without a word. And Kai leans back in his seat, completely unbothered by the fact that he just casually violated every sense of privacy I have.
I gape at him. “You can’t just do that.”
He hums, the sound low, faintly amused, already tucking my phone—my phone—into the side compartment between us.
I open my mouth to demand more answers—because how the hell does he know my password?—but before I can, he’s already reaching into his pocket.
A moment later, he pulls out a small orange pill bottle.
My pill bottle.
And a water bottle from the car’s side pocket.
Kai doesn’t say anything. Just holds them out toward me. Expecting.
I squint at him. “Are you gonna start handfeeding me next?”
“Do you need me to?”
My stomach flips.
His expression doesn’t change. “Take them.”
I tut, grab the meds and twist off the cap. “You know, you have very controlling tendencies.”
He doesn’t respond, which most likely means he doesn’t disagree. But he waits, eyes flicking briefly to my hands as if to make sure I actually take them.
What does he think I am? Stupid? As if I would turn down painkillers in my current position.
I dry-swallow the pills, then take a sip of water before shoving the bottle back toward him. He doesn’t take it right away. Just watches me, gaze lingering, before he finally grabs it and tucks it back into the side pocket.
“Since when do you care?” I ask, more to fill the silence than anything.
Kai exhales, tilting his head slightly against the seat. “Since you started making an inconvenience out of yourself.”
I snort. “So, you’re invested in my survival out of pure annoyance.”
“Something like that.” The faint curve at his mouth almost makes it sound like a joke.
“Convenient.” I shake my head. “You’re changing the subject.”
“So are you,” he says, as he leans back, stretching his legs out—and of course, he seems to forget just how much space his legs actually take up.
I blink, ignoring the fact that his knee just knocked mine. “What?”
“You asked how I knew your password,” he says, voice low. “And then—conveniently—you got distracted.”
I open my mouth to say something and realize—to my great despair—that he’s right. In my irritation, I settle for glaring at him instead.
Damn it.
Kai watches me for another beat, gaze sharp. His lips twitch, the barest smirk. “You want me to answer, or should we pretend this never happened?”
I fold my arms. “That depends. Are you gonna actually answer me?”
“Probably not.”
I shift back into my seat. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, here you are,” he tilts his head, the faintest smile playing at his mouth, “still talking to me.”
And then, just like that, he turns away from me and closes his eyes.
I should look away.
I really, really should.
But for a second, I don’t.
He looks… quite beautiful like this. Of course, his face is mostly all sharp lines, but it’s also the kind of face you could imagine carved into marble by sculptors, celebrated in paintings of the Renaissance.
He has the kind of beauty legends were written about. If ever there were a face to be immortalized in literature, it would be his.
And the fact that I’m not exaggerating says enough.
It’s almost irritating.
He looks… almost peaceful like this.
I turn away before those thoughts can fully settle. Before it can mean something.
And I let myself sleep.
***
When we finally pull up to Lilia’s place and the full house comes into view, I’m in awe. It’s not as big or grand as Kai’s, but it’s absolutely breathtaking. One of a kind.
It’s a stone manor with steeply pitched roofs and ivy-clad walls, and a light dusting of snow clings to the slate shingles.
The driveway itself is probably worth more than my entire house. It’s lined with carefully sculpted hedges, with slick, uneven cobblestones gleaming faintly under a thin sheet of ice.
I can only imagine what it’s like in the summer, with all its greenery.
Just outside the entrance, is Lilia. She’s standing at the top of the stone steps, arms wrapped tightly around herself, shifting anxiously on her feet. She’s been waiting. And the moment we stop, she moves.
I don’t even have time to properly open the door before she’s right there.
I swing the car door open, and—bam.
Lilia.
Standing directly in front of me.
Her eyes sweep over me, scanning from my messy hair to my still slightly scraped-up leg, and then she exhales sharply. “No brace?”
I shake my head, forcing a small smile. “No brace.”
She lets out a long breath of relief. I can practically feel the tension ease out of her shoulders. She probably imagined me arriving in a full cast, completely incapable of standing, which—to be fair—wasn’t entirely outside the realm of possibility.
She’s also probably relieved that I’m not entirely screwed if the intruder decides to pay me another visit.
I go to step out, but before I can, she’s already reaching for me. “Here, let me—”
“Lilia, it’s fine,” I reassure her quickly, laughing a little. “I took some meds, I can—”
“Don’t even try it,” she warns.
Lilia thinks she can carry me over. She most likely can’t. But she’s convinced she can, and I don’t have the energy to fight her.
“Lean on me,” she orders.
I sigh. “Lilia, I don’t—”
“Lean. On. Me.”
Okay then, clearly, she’s not playing around, so I don’t bother arguing with her.
I lean.
And immediately regret it.
The second I shift my weight onto her, she stumbles violently to the side, nearly dragging me down with her.
I grab the car door to steady myself, blinking at her. “Still want me to lean on you?” Lilia’s nod comes a bit too fast, but her expression betrays her. She looks like she’s experiencing more physical pain than I am, and I’m pretty sure she’s moments away from dislocating a shoulder.
I start to pull away, already preparing to reassure her that I’ve got it, but then—suddenly, seamlessly—there’s a shift.
A different weight against me. A stronger, steadier hold.
My arm is no longer slung over Lilia’s shoulder.
It’s over Kai’s.
I look up, startled. “You—”
“Stop talking,” he says flatly with not an ounce of patience, and I frown at him.
Okay, clearly his mood fluctuates quite easily.
Meanwhile, from next to me, Lilia exhales in pure relief and immediately abandons ship, brushing off her shirt and fanning herself.
Kai, as usual, doesn’t seem too bothered about this whole thing.
I, as usual, have many concerns.
But the first real issue arises when we reach the stone stairs.
I knew it was coming, but I hadn’t thought much past the whole getting out of the car part. And I should have, because climbing stairs with a leg that only half-functions sounds about as fun as throwing myself into an open fire.
I hesitate at the base, realising there in fact, is no railing to hold onto. So I just stand there dumbly, trying to decide whether I should just power through or accept my fate and crawl up like some tragic, wounded animal.
Kai doesn’t give me the time to figure it out.
Without so much as a pause, he grips me under the arms and lifts me clean off the ground.
My feet leave the pavement entirely.
I don’t even get the chance to react before he’s already setting me down at the top, and his hands are off me immediately.
I blink. Okay then.
Kai doesn’t acknowledge the moment. Just adjusts his sleeve and keeps walking. Apparently, me leaning on him was no longer an option since we’re at the door already.
Lilia, standing by the door, is watching the whole thing play out with a bemused expression.
The door is unlocked when we reach it, and she holds it open as we step inside.
“Thank you,” I murmur as I limp past.
“My parents are gone this evening,” Lilia says, shrugging off her coat. “But they’ll be back tomorrow.”
I nod absently, my fingers flexing at my sides as my body adjusts to not freezing to death. My focus drifts around the room, taking in the house itself—the high ceilings, the polished wooden floors, the soft golden lighting. It smells like cinnamon and something floral.
Wow.
And then I notice the little face peeking out from behind the staircase. A small, round cheek. Big eyes blinking curiously. And—rabbit slippers.
Lilia follows my gaze. “And that’s Dawn.” She motions vaguely toward the small figure. “Or… half of her.”
The little girl doesn’t move.
She stays wedged behind the staircase, watching us wide eyed.
Lilia takes a step toward her, tone soft. “Dawn—”
Before she can finish, a tiny hand shoots out, grabs Lilia by the sleeve, and yanks her behind the staircase too.
Oh?
I flick a glance toward Kai, who—unsurprisingly—witnesses the entire thing with the same unreadable expression he always wears.
From behind the staircase, there’s a whispered conversation. I can’t make out the words, just the rapid pace and urgency of it.
A few moments later, Lilia emerges, dragging a much smaller, almost identical version of herself by the arm.
I blink.
Because wow. This kid is an exact copy. The same pin-straight, pale blonde hair. The same large, round brown eyes.
“She’s a little shy,” Lilia explains.
I smile at the girl. “Hello, Dawn.”
Dawn doesn’t respond. She just stares.
And then—all at once—everyone looks at Kai.
His gaze flicks to me, then back to Dawn. Then, after a beat, he finally gives a short, polite “Good Afternoon.”
Dawn immediately retreats behind Lilia again.
I lean toward Kai, dropping my voice so that only he can hear it. “I think you’re scaring her.”
He shifts slightly, his gaze flicking toward Dawn again. “You’re in my brother’s year, correct?”
Dawn peeks her head out just a little, still cautious.
There’s a silence.
“His name is Elliot,” she says, and I freeze.
I blink. Once. Twice. Trying to process what she just said.
So, his brother really is the boy from the bench. I thought so after seeing the photo at Kai’s house.
I must make a face because when I glance at Kai, he’s already watching me. His gaze flicks to mine, catching the exact second the realization dawns on me.
I stare. He stares back.
There’s a beat of silence.
Dawn, suddenly red-faced, ducks back behind Lilia.
Honestly?
Same.