Elara woke to soft morning light filtering through the curtains.
Lucas’s guest room was quiet, the air still. She sat up slowly, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling, then at the folded blanket still draped over her legs.
I stayed.
She hadn’t meant to. She’d planned to leave once he fell asleep. But the seal had pulsed again—soft, steady—and something in her chest told her to wait. Just a little longer.
Now it was morning.
And she was still here.
And she’d kissed him.
Accidentally. Completely. Clumsily. Kissed him.
Her cheeks burned.
She stood, smoothed her clothes, and tiptoed toward the kitchen. The least she could do was make tea. Something calming. Something normal. Something that didn’t involve lips or seals or—
Definitely not abs. He won’t be shirtless. Why would he be shirtless? That’s ridiculous.
She found the kettle, filled it, and set it to boil. Her hands moved on autopilot, but her brain was in chaos.
It wasn’t a kiss. It was a collision. A seal-triggered, fever-softening, proximity-induced collision. Not a moment. Not a thing. Definitely not a second kiss. Right?
She poured the tea, placed it on a tray with medicine and a damp cloth, and turned toward the hallway.
And then—
Footsteps.
She looked up.
And froze.
Lucas walked in, shirtless, wearing only lounge shorts. His hair was slightly tousled, his expression calm. Too calm.
Elara’s brain short-circuited.
His skin was still slightly flushed from sleep, but his posture was relaxed. Defined shoulders. Subtle lines across his abdomen. Not exaggerated—just lean, real, and quietly devastating.
Abs. Actual abs. Not drama lighting. Not fan-edited. Real.
She blinked.
Twice.
It’s Lucas. It’s Lucas. Why is he shirtless? Why is he glowing? Why is he built like a soft-spoken heartbreaker?
“Good morning,” Lucas said, voice low and even.
Elara fumbled the tray. The mug tilted.
Lucas stepped forward and caught it with one hand, effortlessly.
“You’re jumpy,” he said.
“I’m not jumpy! I’m just—hydrated. I mean—you’re hydrated. I mean—oh my god.”
Lucas raised a brow, amused.
And then—he chuckled softly.
It wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t forced.
Just a quiet sound, paired with a smile that reached his eyes.
Elara froze.
That smile.
It was the kind she remembered from years ago—when he was still acting, still on-screen, still untouchable. The kind of smile that made fans pause mid-scroll, replay interviews, screenshot moments just to keep it a little longer.
She’d loved that smile once.
And now it was right in front of her.
Real. Unscripted. Just for her.
Her heart did something ridiculous.
This is the first time he’s smiled at me.
She didn’t know what to do with that.
So she looked away, pretending to fuss with the tea tray, cheeks burning.
Totally normal. Just a fever prince with abs and a smile that once ruined my sleep schedule. No big deal.
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced down.
Mina:
So… you stayed the night?
Is our fever prince still alive? Or did you nurse him back to health with your magical tea and awkward charm?
Elara nearly dropped her phone.
Lucas raised an eyebrow.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes! Just Mina. Being Mina. Nothing important. Definitely not about you. Or tea. Or—hydration!”
Lucas looked amused.
Elara looked like she wanted to melt into the floor.
This is fine. Totally fine. Just me. And him. And the memory of a kiss that wasn’t supposed to happen. And his abs. And tea.