Chapter138 – D-Don’t mess around
Clarissa stayed where she was, her body warming from the inside out at his nearness.The boy who used to be all sharp edges and soft ambition had grown into a man—undeniably confident, intensely gentle.
She gazed at him through the mirror, her chest tightening. There was something radiant about him now, something no woman in the world could possibly resist.
And she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep trying.
Though her head told her to stop, her heart betrayed her—she gave the faintest nod under his gaze. “…Okay.”
Atticus’s smile bloomed like sunlight, tender and knowing. He picked up a comb and began running it through her long, smooth hair, fingers brushing her scalp with delicate precision.
Through the mirror, their eyes met again. His movements slowed. He curled a lock of her hair around his finger, then lifted it to his lips with a reverence that made her breath catch.
“Even your hair,” he murmured, voice low and raspy, “is beautiful.”
Her pulse quickened. She felt flushed all over. “D-Don’t mess around,” she stammered. “Hurry up—my parents are coming soon.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled but didn’t tease her further.
Instead, Clarissa watched him, mesmerized, as he moved expertly around her vanity—selecting tools, smoothing product onto her skin, fixing strands of hair in place.
He knew her so well. He knew exactly where to touch, where to highlight, how to bring out the features even she overlooked.
Twenty minutes later, he stepped back.
Clarissa looked at herself in the mirror.
Light makeup, barely there, but enough to illuminate her natural beauty—the softness in her eyes, the elegant line of her jaw, the quiet power in her stillness.
When Atticus touched something, it became something more. Even the simplest detail could transform in his hands.
But when it was her… when it was Clarissa he was touching—there was magic.
“Do you like it?” he asked softly.
She couldn’t meet his gaze. “It’s… fine.”
Her fingers curled tightly in her lap. “You should go change too.”
“Alright. I’ll be quick. You go wait in the living room.”
With that, Atticus slipped out the door.
Left alone in the room, Clarissa exhaled shakily, placing a hand over her chest. Her heart was still racing. She just hoped he hadn’t heard it.
......
By the time she composed herself and walked out into the living room, the sight that greeted her stopped her in her tracks.
Atticus was already there, laughing and chatting easily with her parents. The way they looked at him—warm, bright—it stunned her.
Ophelia spotted Clarissa immediately and lit up. “Clarissa! Look at you, darling. You’re glowing today—come sit!”
Nathaniel was still deep in conversation with Atticus, nodding with an impressed smile. It only took a few minutes for him to decide that this boy’s future was anything but ordinary.
When did he get so close to my parents? Clarissa wondered, confused.
Still a little dazed, she allowed herself to be pulled to the sofa by her mother.
“Clarissa, how have you been feeling lately?”
“Much better,” she answered smoothly. “I’m thinking of taking Atticus on a trip soon.”
Ophelia clapped her hands with delight. “A trip? That sounds wonderful! You’re still recovering—it’s good to get away before diving back into work.”
Nathaniel raised a brow. “Just the two of you?”
His eyes landed on Atticus again—tall, confident, and still with that lingering hint of youthful edge around his brows.
Facing Nathaniel’s gaze, Clarissa felt a flicker of guilt. She kept her voice calm as she answered, “Well… Atticus is about to graduate college, so I thought I’d take him on a trip during my break.”
She kept her eyes on Nathaniel while speaking, avoiding Atticus’s gaze altogether.
But even without looking, she could feel the heat of it—intense, focused—burning into her like a slow flame. It made her skin prickle and her heart race.
Suddenly, Clarissa stood up. “Mom, Dad, you must be tired. Let me make you some tea.”
Before either of them could respond, she turned and headed toward the kitchen, trying to calm the wild thrum of her pulse.
Only when she was away from Atticus’s stare did she finally let out a breath.
Clarissa pulled out the tea leaves and reached for the kettle. Just as she was about to pour the hot water, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind.
“Sis…” came that familiar, low voice, right against her ear.
Startled, Clarissa gasped, and the kettle slipped from her grip, clattering into the sink. Boiling water splashed upward—
—Atticus reached around and shielded her with his arm, catching the spray himself. His skin reddened instantly.
“Atticus!”
Clarissa spun around, her face pale. She grabbed his arm, her voice in panic. “Are you insane?! What are you doing in here?!”
He didn’t resist as she pulled him to the sink and ran cold water over his burn, still scolding him between gasps of frustration.
“I just came to check on you,” he said innocently. “I’m in charge of the kitchen now. Thought maybe you couldn’t find the tea leaves…”
“Still can’t just sneak up on someone like that!” she snapped, even as her hands moved gently over his arm.
His lips curved into a smile. Then, before she could pull away, he wrapped her tightly in his arms.
“W-What are you doing?!” she whispered, alarmed.
Atticus held her close, refusing to let go. His voice dipped into something softer—wounded, needy. “Sis… my hand hurts so much.”
She stopped struggling. Her tone softened. “Let me go, okay? I’ll put medicine on it in a second…”
But Atticus’s next words took her off guard. “Give me a reward, and I won’t feel any pain.”
“What?” She blinked up at him, confused—until his hand cupped her cheek and he kissed her.
“Mmm—!” Clarissa’s eyes flew wide as he captured her lips. Her mind blanked, her body tense—but she didn’t pull away.
When he finally let her go, she was breathless, dizzy. Her knees might’ve given out if he hadn’t held her steady.
“Clarissa…” He rested his forehead against hers, brushing her cheek gently.
Face flushed, she whispered between shallow breaths, “You’re insane. My parents are still outside…”
Atticus laughed softly, that deep, wicked sound. “Relax—I told them I was helping you in here.”
“You—!” She glared at him, swatting at his chest, but he caught her hand easily.
“You’re so cruel,” he said with a mock pout. “Still hitting an injured man? Where’s the compassion?”
“You deserve it,” she huffed. “Now let me go.”
But He stared at her flushed cheeks, her kiss-swollen lips, his eyes darkening with a hunger. He only wanted a kiss, but now…
He licked his bottom lip slowly, voice thick and hoarse near her ear. “Clarissa.....” He slid his arms around her again, pulling her against him.
Clarissa trembled in his hold, feeling the heat of him pressed to her back. She grabbed his hands instinctively. “Stop. My parents are still out there…”
He nuzzled her shoulder, lips brushing her skin. “Then wait for tonight,” he whispered. “Come to me, and I’ll—”
“No!” She turned sharply, cutting him off. Her instincts screamed that whatever he was about to say would’ve melted all her remaining defenses.
She shoved at his chest. “We’ve been gone too long already—they’ll get suspicious!”
Atticus saw the clarity return to Clarissa’s eyes, and he sighed inwardly with a trace of regret.
He’d wanted to ask her to fall asleep in his arms in night.
But just as he began to loosen his hold on her, Ophelia’s voice drifted in from the hallway. “Clarissa? Atticus? What’s taking so long? I thought I heard something…”
Clarissa startled, a visible shiver running through her. Instinctively, she shoved Atticus away.
Caught off guard, he staggered back a few steps, releasing her.