Chapter 109: ASKING PERMISSION
Azazel leaned back against the driver’s seat, his fingers lazily scratching the back of his neck as he muttered to himself, "This woman..."
His brows furrowed, lips slightly pursed, battling the whirlwind of thoughts that had been occupying his mind since morning.
Minutes passed in silence, the only sound was the faint hum of his car’s engine.
With a deep exhale, Azazel gathered his composure, his usually sharp eyes softening as his hand found the car door handle.
He stepped out with the natural charisma that seemed to cling to him without effort. The car door closed with a soft yet definite thud behind him.
He turned, his gaze settling on the gate ahead. A simple yet charming structure that stood like a quiet sentinel.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as a familiar name echoed in his mind—Ava.
She had been the constant hum in his thoughts lately, the uninvited yet welcomed intruder.
His footsteps were measured as he approached the gate, the gravel beneath his shoes crunching softly.
Stopping just before the gate, he lifted his hand and pressed the bell button with his index finger.
"Ring—" the sharp chime of the bell sliced through the afternoon air.
From within the house, muffled voices stirred. "Cassy, go and open the gate," a woman’s voice called, gentle yet brisk.
Inside, a little girl perked up, nodding enthusiastically.
Cassy, Ava’s ten-year-old sister, darted off, her bare feet pattering lightly against the tiled floor as she made her way to the gate.
Outside, Azazel stood straight, his back taut with the weight of anticipation.
He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, bracing himself for the inevitable face-to-face with Ava’s parents.
His fingers briefly tapped against his thigh—a small, unconscious habit when his mind was busy rehearsing all the respectful greetings and explanations.
The soft metallic click of the gate’s lock broke his thoughts.
Slowly, the gate creaked open, revealing a pair of wide, curious eyes peeking up at him.
Instead of the intimidating elder he expected, it was a bright-faced little girl grinning up at him.
"Hey, dear," Azazel greeted, squatting down to meet her eye level, his voice smoothing into a warm tone.
"Are you here to see sis Avy?" Cassy asked, her smile as bright as sunshine, speaking with a familiarity that startled him in the most endearing way.
Hearing her Azazel raise a brow ’ Did Ava talked about someone seeing her,’
Azazel chuckled, amused by her casualness. "Yes, I’m here to see your sister. And who might you be, little princess?"
Cassy’s grin widened. "Didn’t you hear what Mama said earlier?"
Azazel blinked, his brows slightly lifting as he mentally replayed the voice that had called her. "Ah, you must be Ava’s little sister." He smiled as it clicked.
"I’m Cassy! What’s your name?" she beamed.
"Azazel," he said, standing back up but keeping his smile gentle.
"Oops," Cassy giggled, placing a hand over her mouth. "Mama will scold me if I keep you standing out here." With a dramatic sweep of her tiny arms, she pushed the gate open wide. "Come in!"
Her enthusiasm was contagious.
Azazel’s lips curved into a broader smile as he followed her into the compound, the faint floral scent of blooming hibiscus brushing past them with the breeze.
The home was modest yet inviting, the garden neat, sprinkled with vibrant colors.
Cassy led the way, her steps a little dance, as if she was proudly escorting a VIP guest.
"Mom! Dad!" she announced, her voice carrying into the living room as they stepped inside.
Azazel trailed in, adjusting his posture as his eyes landed on a middle-aged couple seated comfortably on a plush beige sofa.
Theresa and Benjamin turned to face him, their expressions morphing from curiosity to delight.
"Good morning, Ma’am, Sir," Azazel greeted, bowing his head respectfully.
Benjamin was the first to speak, his tone warm and welcoming. "Hope your day is full of happiness, my boy."
Theresa’s smile was no less radiant as she gave a small nod of agreement, her eyes subtly scanning the young man from head to toe, not with scrutiny, but with motherly fondness.
They had always wished for a son. Life, however, had gifted them with two wonderful daughters.
Yet, as they had often joked, sons-in-law were merely sons born from a different mother.
"Come, sit down. Don’t just stand there as if you’re at an interview," Theresa said with a playful smile, gesturing toward the armchair opposite them.
Azazel chuckled softly, accepting the invitation as he sat, his back straight but his demeanor relaxed.
There was an ease about him that filled the space, making his presence feel familiar rather than foreign.
Theresa, meanwhile, couldn’t help but let her thoughts wander. ’He’s handsome...good posture, polite...ah, I wish to have him as a son.’
"But, my boy," Benjamin leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees, his tone light but curious, "for what honor do we owe this visit?"
Azazel’s lips quirked into a polite smile. "I’m here today because of Ava," he began, watching as Theresa’s expression lit up instantly.
"Ava knows about my intentions," Azazel continued, his tone earnest, "but I believe it is only respectful—to her and to you—that I come here to ask for your permission to court her properly."
For a brief moment, the room was steeped in silence. Benjamin and Theresa at loose of words.
The hallway was quiet as Roman and Julie walked side by side, their steps leisurely, as though neither of them was in a hurry to face the next part of the morning.
Julie stole a glance up at Roman, who seemed perfectly composed, but she could sense the faintest edge of amusement playing at his lips.
"So..." she began, swinging their joined hands a little, "are we really running away, or was that just for dramatic effect?"
Roman gave a nonchalant shrug, though his eyes glinted. "Depends. How fast can you run in that dress?"
Julie laughed, the sound soft and bubbling. "Not very fast, unfortunately."
"Then I’ll just have to carry you when Lisa starts coming after us with the photo album," Roman said with such a calm tone that it made Julie giggle even more.
"I’m beginning to think you’re not afraid of her traps at all," she said, narrowing her eyes at him playfully.
"I’m not," Roman replied smoothly. "But you? You should be terrified."
Julie shook her head, laughing as they reached the top of the staircase.
The Thompson estate was beautiful in the morning, the sunlight spilling through the tall windows, making everything glow.
Somehow, walking through it with Roman made it feel less intimidating—more like a home.
When they reached their room, Roman opened the door and stepped aside, holding it for her with a slight bow that was far too formal to be serious.
"Welcome to our temporary safehouse, Mrs. Thompson."
Julie gave a mock curtsy as she walked past him, smirking as she did. "Thank you, Mr. Thompson."
The door closed with a soft click, sealing them away from the rest of the world for a while.
The room was filled with a warm, quiet light, with the softest breeze fluttering the edges of the cream-colored curtains. It felt like a little pocket of peace.
Julie let go of his hand and made her way to the closet door, humming under her breath as she her fingers tighten around the knob.
She could feel Roman’s gaze lingering, but when she glanced back, he was already unbuttoning his cuffs, his focus elsewhere—or at least pretending it was.
"You’re awfully quiet," she remarked, pulling out a soft sky-blue dress. "Planning our next great escape?"
Roman, now carefully rolling up his sleeves, offered a faint smile. "Just enjoying the view."
Julie’s cheeks warmed instantly. She turned quickly, pretending to be busy with opening the door and she push it open.
Roman, satisfied with her flustered reaction, moved to his closer. his movements fluid and composed as always.
Walking in the room with her,
He pulled out a fresh, crisp shirt and a pair of dark trouser.
Julie slipped behind the privacy screen to change, her voice floating out teasingly, "You know, if you keep making comments like that, I might start thinking you’re a flirt."
Talking about earlier when he call her ’ My Heart desire,’
"I’m not," Roman replied without missing a beat. "I’m just honest."
Julie couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as she pulled the new dress over her head.
She was beginning to realize that Roman’s calm, composed persona came with a dry, subtle sense of humor that always managed to catch her off guard.
"Alright," she announced, stepping out from behind the screen and smoothing down the soft fabric of her dress. "Ready to face the photo album trap."
Roman, who was now adjusting his collar, turned to look at her—and paused.
The compliment wasn’t loud or exaggerated. It came in the simple way his lips curved into a rare, softer smile.
His eyes didn’t wander—they held her gaze as if to tell her that no matter how beautiful the world was outside that window, she had just outshone it.
Julie, caught off-guard, ducked her head, pretending to fix her sleeve. "If you keep looking at me like that, Roman, I’ll never be ready to face Lisa."
Roman took a few steps towards her, his expression composed but his tone laced with amusement.
"Consider it practice. If you can survive my staring, you can handle Lisa’s photo album interrogation."
Julie laughed, shaking her head as she moved to the mirror to adjust her hair. "You’re impossible, Roman Thompson."