The morning birds chirped lazily across the rooftops of the village, fluttering from tree to tree like they had nowhere in particular to be.
The sky was pale blue, and the air felt light. It seemed like the village had just awoken from a peaceful night.
But not Steve.
He sat silently at the dining table with the rest of the household. The clinking sounds of cutlery tapping against porcelain filled the quiet space as everyone worked through the remnants of last night's chicken stew.
It was slightly stale on the tongue, but still delicious— that was just how Maggie's cooking always was.
Still, it didn't matter to Steve anyway. He barely noticed the taste.
He kept his eyes low, spoon in hand, slowly sipping the hot chicken soup in front of him.
His lips parted slightly, taking in a spoonful, eyes dull but alert. But just then, as he took another sip, his gaze flicked upward, almost unconsciously to-
Fiona, who sat across from him.
Their eyes locked. Hers froze for a brief second before quickly darting away, as if burned by his stare. She looked to the side, pretending to focus on her plate.
And following that, his lips curved.
'Hehe...' he smirked internally.
'She's still pondering about last night. Probably wondering what the hell happened. Can't blame her. Hell, I'd be just as lost too.'
He stirred the soup slowly, dragging the spoon through the thin broth as if it were a lazy river of thought.
Another sip. But as he brought the spoon to his lips again, his eyes drifted—first to Tonya, then to Maggie.
The two women were seated at opposite ends of the table, heads bowed slightly, focused entirely on their meal. They did make small talk, mostly about the food.
'Hmm...that's odd. All they're talking about is how good the food tastes.' he thought, blinking once.
'Not even sparing me a glance... damn. Aren't they supposed to be at least a little interested in me?'
He frowned faintly. Then his eyes found Fiona again.
'Just like her.' he mused.
His gaze lingered for a moment... then he saw it.
The edge of her dress—slightly short, clinging to her curves. The fabric dipped low, hugging the shape of her breasts tightly, exposing the generous swell of her cleavage with almost no effort to conceal it.
His pulse ticked up, the memory burning vivid behind his eyes.
'Mmmm...yeah...I ravaged those boobs last night... God, they felt incredible, and soft...Damn...' he grinned internally once more, eyes glued to her chest.
'This night won't be any different. Might just push to third base... why the hell not?'
A wicked smile tugged at the corner of his lips....but right then-
'She wasn't into me either at first... not until I touched her.' he thought with growing confidence.
'So maybe that's all it takes for Maggie and Tonya too. Just... make the first move.'
He leaned back slightly, letting the plan form in his head like puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place.
'Yeah... yeah, that's it. Just start right here.'
He barely moved, but his expression had changed. His face was calm—blank, even. But his mind? Sharp as a blade.
Across from him, Fiona peeked up again, her cheeks faintly flushed. She seemed unable to keep her eyes off him for long. Her stare held something between confusion and need.
'Damnit...why can't I stop staring at him...What have you done to me?' she seemed to whisper with her eyes.
Steve's grin deepened.
He turned casually toward Maggie.
"Umm...so..." he said with a light tone.
"I'm thinking of heading to the market later. You know, for the house. Pick up a few things."
Maggie paused, surprised. Her brows lifted, expression unreadable for a second.
"Really?" she asked.
"Yeah." he nodded.
"It's nothing much. The market's close by. Figured we'd need some stuff for tonight anyway. You probably need ingredients, right?"
Maggie blinked, then softened into a smile.
"Yeah... I do. That's thoughtful of you."
He smiled back, the exact response he wanted.
"Well, you'll probably need some help carrying things."
Steve glanced sideways.
"Maybe Tonya should come with you?"
Tonya's head jerked up like she'd been slapped.
"What? No—that's... I'm busy." she stammered, eyes flicking from him to Maggie.
"Fiona can go."
Maggie frowned, straightening slightly.
"Tonya, what's wrong with you? Your brother volunteered to help. All I'm asking is for you to give him a hand."
"But I'm—busy!" Tonya snapped again, panic rising in her voice.
Steve raised a hand gently.
"It's not a big deal if she doesn't want to go—"
"No, she's going," Maggie said sharply.
Her tone was final.
She turned her eyes to Tonya, firm and unwavering. Tonya's lips parted like she was going to argue, but she caught herself, biting her tongue instead. Her jaw clenched as she looked away, stabbing at her food with unnecessary force.
Steve didn't say anything. He simply looked at both of them with an innocent expression, quiet and agreeable on the outside.
But inside?
'Perfect.' he smirked in his mind.
'That's exactly what I needed.'
Initially, he just wanted to get in Maggie's good books—something subtle, something helpful. But this? This was better. Now he had Tonya alone. A real opportunity.
He tapped a finger against his spoon, the plan already moving.
'Still...' he thought, expression thoughtful.
'It's going to be tough making a move in public. A busy marketplace isn't exactly the best place for that.'
But then...
A glimmer lit in his eye.
'...unless I have this.'
His fingers itched toward the small notebook tucked in his back pocket.
The Author's Notebook.
The item that had given him control. Power. Possibility.
He smiled.
'...Yeah. With this in hand, nothing's impossible.'
His grin stretched wider.
Now, he knew exactly what to do next...make a move.
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