Chapter171 – Just touching
By the time the two returned, night had already fallen. But Clarissa’s mood remained light and happy.
That night, Clarissa helped Atticus change his bandages, wiped him down, and carefully tucked him into bed. Just as she was about to turn and leave, he reached out and caught her hand.
"Stay with me tonight?"
Clarissa paused, caught off guard, and then her face turned red in an instant.
“No… I mean, you’re still recovering—”
“It’s just an injury,” he said, smiling. “And besides, haven’t we already shared a bed before?”
“Don’t say it like that…” Clarissa mumbled, her face growing even hotter.
Atticus let out a low laugh and gave her arm a little tug, pulling her straight into his embrace.
“What kind of way?” he murmured, lips brushing her ear. “The part about us sleeping together?”
“Atticus!” she gasped, smacking his shoulder.
“But I haven’t actually slept yet…”
“You’re being shameless again!” she snapped, glaring at him, but even her scolding sounded flustered.
Atticus grinned, unbothered.
“I need to shower first,” Clarissa muttered with a sigh, wriggling in his arms. “Let go.”
“You mean… you’ll stay?” His eyes were bright with anticipation.
Clarissa looked at him helplessly. “Do I even have a choice?”
“Nope,” he answered instantly, smug and unapologetic.
Clarissa: “…”
This boy is seriously becoming more and more domineering.
But finally—finally—Atticus loosened his grip.
“Fine, I’ll let you go. For now,” he added with a wicked grin. “But I want a reward first.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he cupped her face and kissed her.
Deep. Possessive. Hungry.
By the time he let her go, her lips were kiss-bruised and her breath shaky. He rested his forehead against hers, panting slightly, his voice low and gravelly. “Take your shower in my room.”
Clarissa was dazed, still recovering from the kiss. She nodded instinctively.
Only then did Atticus finally release her.
Freed from his arms, Clarissa quickly stood up and walked out. Her steps were unsteady, and she had to grip the doorframe to balance herself.
Only then did she notice the door was still ajar. A flush of embarrassment crept up her neck.
Had anyone passed by in the hallway just now?
Clarissa pushed the door open fully and peeked out. After confirming the corridor was empty, she finally let out a breath of relief and went back to her room to gather her things.
She grabbed her change of clothes and a pouch with her nighttime skincare products, then headed back toward Atticus’s room. But the moment she stepped out, she nearly screamed—someone was standing silently behind her.
Startled, Clarissa’s heart jumped into her throat. When she got a clearer look, her expression softened.
“Yuriko? It’s you! Why are you still awake this late?”
The soft clack of wooden sandals echoed as Yuriko Nomiya walked closer, a sweet smile gracing her lips.
“I wanted to apologize for pushing you the other day. I was so worried about Atticus—I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Oh, that… don’t worry about it,” Clarissa said casually. “It’s late, you should get some rest.”
Yuriko glanced at the clothes in Clarissa’s hand. Her smile remained warm, but something flickered in her eyes—too quick to name.
“Alright. Sleep well, Clarissa.”
Clarissa nodded and turned to open Atticus’s door again.
Unbeknownst to her, the moment her back was turned, Yuriko’s smile melted away. In its place was something sharp—cold, calculating, venomous.
Inside, Atticus was lying in bed, listlessly scrolling through his phone. The second the door creaked open, his head snapped up.
When he saw Clarissa step in, his eyes brightened instantly.
“What took you so long?” He had just started to worry. If she hadn’t come back, he might’ve gone out to find her himself.
Clarissa set her things down on the nightstand. “I ran into Yuriko Nomiya outside. She wanted to talk for a moment.”
Atticus’s eyes narrowed. “Her? What the hell does she want with you?”
“She came to apologize. Said she was sorry for bumping into me last time, and that she was worried about you.”
Clarissa picked up her skincare pouch, along with her pajamas, and walked into the bathroom.
Soon, the sound of water echoed from inside.
Atticus sat still for a moment, then leaned back, closing his eyes—and immediately regretted it. He could *see* her now, in his mind: warm water sliding down her bare skin, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders…
He swallowed hard.
Desire, which had barely settled, flared up again with a vengeance.
Atticus took a deep breath. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus, using sheer willpower to cage the beast clawing inside his chest.
When Clarissa came out, she found Atticus on his phone, staring at the screen. His fingers, however, were a blur as they flew across the glass.
She didn’t interrupt, simply climbed onto the bed and began applying body lotion.
She didn’t use it every day, but ever since arriving here, the cold, dry air had tightened her skin, so she’d gotten into the habit.
Halfway through her routine, a pair of warm, firm hands wrapped around her waist from behind.
“Clarissa…”
She paused. “What is it? Are you tired? You can sleep first if you want.”
Atticus leaned in, brushing his lips against the back of her neck. “You brought all your stuff… does that mean you’re staying here from now on?”
Clarissa hesitated for a moment, then put down the bottle in her hand and gently took his.
“Atticus, let’s go home.”
Atticus froze. His gaze darkened slightly. “Go home? Why? Didn’t you enjoy being here?”
“I did,” Clarissa said softly. “But this place isn’t good for recovery.…”
"Clarissa, are you worried about me… or do you just not want to stay here?"
Just as Clarissa was about to answer, Atticus smiled again. “Alright, we’ll leave. But we visit Butterfly Valley first. I’ve heard it’s stunning—it would be a shame not to go.”
And there were things he needed there.
Clarissa thought for a second and nodded in agreement.
The next moment, she was scooped up into Atticus’s arms.
“It’s late. Time for bed,” he murmured.
“You’re so hot…”
“Your hands and feet are freezing. Let me warm you up.”
Startled, Clarissa reached up to stop him. “Hey—cut it out!”
But Atticus’s breathing only grew heavier, his warm breath brushing against the curve of her neck.
“Clarissa… just let me touch you. I’ve missed you so much…”
She hesitated. After all, they’d hugged, kissed, even she helped him with… things. Maybe a little more touching wouldn’t matter?
But she quickly realized that when a man said just touching, he rarely meant it that innocently.
Who knows how long it lasted. By the time Atticus finally straightened her clothes and pulled her into his arms, Clarissa was flushed and breathless.
“I’m never sleeping with you again,” she mumbled, face burning.
Seriously, where had this kid learned these things? He hadn’t even reached her shoulder a few years ago.
Atticus looked down at her and suddenly whispered, “Clarissa, I feel so happy right now… do you think this is all just a dream?”
Her heart tightened. That simple question stabbed right into her chest—bittersweet and aching. “Do you… dream of me often?”
“Mmhmm,” Atticus nodded. “I dream you’re lying in my arms, just like now. That I get to undress you, like I just did, and—”
“Atticus!” she snapped, face hot, cutting him off.
Atticus burst out laughing at her outrage. “What? I wasn’t finished—”
“I don’t want to hear it!” Clarissa huffed and turned her back to him. “Go to sleep.”
But Atticus just grinned and wrapped himself around her from behind. “But I want to keep talking…”
“Atticus, if you don’t go to sleep, it’ll be morning. And if you don’t sleep, I’m going to sleep!”
He tightened his arms around her and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I dreamed we got married… had a little girl who looked just like you. We bought a house in a beautiful place, and every holiday the three of us would go there together…”