Chapter 162: 162: it’s... Complicated
162
~Lisa’s POV
I lay back on the soft sheets, letting the warmth of the meal settle in my stomach. My eyelids felt heavy, drooping despite my efforts to stay awake. Damon’s hand lingered at the side of my face, his touch gentle, almost reverent, as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. The faint scent of him filled my senses, and I felt a quiet comfort settle around me, like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us in that room.
He leaned closer, placing a soft, lingering kiss on my forehead. The pressure of his lips made me shiver slightly, a mixture of warmth and relief washing over me. My belly stirred gently as his hand rested there, fingers tracing the curve of my stomach in the most careful, protective way.
"I’ll come back to check on you later," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, the words slipping into my mind like a lullaby. I could hear the soft rumble of his tone, the gentle certainty in it, and it made my heart lift even as sleep tugged at me.
I smiled faintly, letting the feeling of him envelop me, allowing his warmth and presence to seep into my bones. "Okay..." I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper, soft and sleepy. The comfort of his closeness made my body relax, each muscle loosening as if surrendering to the calm he brought.
He bent down one last time, pressing a kiss against my stomach, a tender gesture that made me gasp softly, my fingers twitching instinctively over the sheets. "Sleep well," he whispered.
The door clicked softly behind him, and a quiet settled in the room. I let my head sink into the pillow, the blankets curling around me. The scent of him lingered on the sheets and in the air, and I took a slow, deep breath, letting it fill my lungs and my mind. Curling further into the blankets, I felt the mattress hug my body, supporting me in a way that made the heaviness of the day fade slightly.
My thoughts drifted lazily as my eyes closed halfway, remembering the gentleness of his touch, the softness of his kiss, and the steady warmth of his hand over my stomach. The room felt peaceful, quiet except for the faint creak of the floorboards and the distant whisper of wind outside. My heartbeat slowed, syncing with the rhythm of calm that had settled over me.
Gradually, the edges of consciousness began to blur. I drifted further into sleep.
****
I stayed still for a moment, my eyes squeezed shut, savoring the warmth I felt beside me. My lips lifted into a sleepy, soft smile as I assumed it was Damon, as usual, silently watching over me. "Damon... when did you get in?" I murmured, my voice barely more than a whisper, heavy with sleep and drowsy comfort.
But the reply wasn’t what I expected.
"Lisa..."
My body stiffened instantly. The voice was unfamiliar, low, controlled, and somehow deliberate. My stomach flipped, a sudden wave of panic coursing through me. I opened my eyes cautiously, squinting into the dim light of the room. Shadows stretched along the walls, and the soft glow of the lanterns made the figure beside me sharper, more defined. But it wasn’t Damon. Not even close.
I sat up abruptly, my heart hammering in my chest. The blankets fell to my waist, and my hands gripped the sheets instinctively, bracing myself. "Who... who are you?" My voice trembled, a mixture of fear and confusion, my words coming out faster than I intended. My eyes scanned the stranger, his posture, the calm control in his stance, the faint glimpse of mischief or threat in his gaze.
He took a slow step forward, his movements careful, deliberate. "Do not be afraid," he said, but there was a strange edge in his tone that made my chest tighten. "I mean you no immediate harm."
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, and tried to pull myself together. "Listen to you... about what? How did you even get in here?" My mind raced. Every possibility seemed dangerous. How had someone entered my room unnoticed?
The figure hesitated, taking a cautious step forward. "I mean no harm. My name is..."
I held up a hand, cutting him off. "I don’t care. Why are you here? How did you get in?" My voice was sharper now, more defensive, my instincts kicking in.
Just as I was about to raise my voice to demand he leave my room immediately, something about him struck a faint chord of familiarity. I paused, narrowing my eyes at him, trying to place where I might have seen him before.
"Do you work here?" I asked cautiously, my tone sharp, laced with suspicion.
He nodded, a slight, polite nod, but that hardly justified his presence. No one had the right to just barge into my room without permission, especially not in the middle of the night. I shifted on the bed, moving a bit away from him, making sure there was space between us.
"I’m Luca," he said finally, his voice calm, respectful, and deliberate.
I blinked at him, trying to process it, my mind still reeling from the intrusion. "How can I help you, Luca? You know this is very wrong. Barging into my room while I’m asleep, sitting close to me, it could be interpreted in many ways," I explained, trying to maintain a controlled tone despite the racing of my heart. My anger, fear, and confusion all mixed together.
He cleared his throat, straightening himself, and looked me in the eyes. "Can you at least stand up and tell me what you want?" he asked carefully, his tone gentle but firm, as though he genuinely wanted to respect boundaries.
I hesitated for a moment, then watched him obey my request, moving with a quiet attentiveness that was unusual. He took a breath and, with a kind of nervous sincerity, said, "I just... I’d like to be your friend."
"Friends?!" I gasped, clearly taken aback. My chest tightened. No one had ever offered genuine friendship to me since... since Milo’s death. A wave of grief and old sorrow washed over me. My throat constricted, and I felt a sob threatening to escape. "Oh my gosh," I whispered, remembering how Milo had been killed by my so-called mate.
I quickly wiped my eyes, forcing the tears away, and looked back at Luca. He seemed so innocent, so genuine, standing there as though offering a small hand of trust. But I had spent enough time in the palace to know better than to trust so easily.
"Luca," I said carefully, my voice steadying, though soft, "I have no idea why you want to be my friend, and I truly appreciate your thoughtfulness. But... we can’t be friends. Not now, not like this. It’s... complicated."