The air seemed thicker than before when Clara returned, the faint clink of porcelain in her hands. Two cups of chilled juice gleamed with condensation, the color bright against the soft dim of her living room. Balanced in her other hand was a plate steam rising, the aroma instantly familiar.
Kael's eyes widened. His throat worked a dry swallow.
No way…
It was his favorite dish. The one he never admitted he craved when he was home alone, the one that always pulled memories out of him like a hook through the chest. He muttered under his breath, barely a whisper. "You've got to be kidding me…"
Clara set it down with a slow grace, her smirk tugging from the corner of her lips as though she had heard him anyway.
"Go on," she said softly, sliding one cup toward him. Her eyes locked with his, steady, dark, teasing. "Don't be nervous."
He tried not to show it, but his hand trembled faintly as he lifted the glass. He took a sip, forcing his throat to steady, but the chill of the drink only seemed to make his heart pound louder. He glanced at her across the table—her chin tilted low, her smirk deliberate, her gaze never wavering from his.
The silence between them wasn't silence at all. It was filled with her perfume, the faint clatter of utensils, the rhythm of Kael's heart hammering as though it wanted out.
He chewed slowly, forcing himself to move like it was nothing. Pretend. Bold. Control.
Except the words slipped out before he could cage them.
"W–why have you invited me?"
His voice was quiet but bold at the same time, trembling but edged with a raw need for an answer. He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing just enough, though his pulse betrayed him.
Clara stilled.
And then her smirk deepened, low and wicked. She leaned back in her chair, one finger sliding lazily along the rim of her cup.
"You hadn't guessed?" she murmured. "I don't bring just anyone here, Kael."
The way she said his name made the air tilt.
Kael's breath hitched. He sat up straighter, clinging to the pretense of control, but every word from her lips dragged the ground out from under him.
They teased each other under the low glow of the room, the fresh air slipping through the window carrying the mingled scents of food and something heavier, something electric.
His mind swam.
Damn… This is either the best or the worst decision I've ever made.
Clara's fork tapped lightly against the plate as she leaned back, studying him the way a cat studies a mouse that pretends it's not cornered. Her smirk curved, low and deliberate.
"I guess you're not bad after all," she said, her voice dripping casual charm, though her eyes never left his face.
Kael froze mid-bite. He swallowed too quickly, nearly choking, and tried to mask it by lifting his glass again. Keep it cool. Pretend bold. Just breathe.
But then Clara tilted her head, lashes lowering as though the next question were an afterthought.
"So tell me…" Her smirk widened just enough to show intent. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
The words landed like a spark on dry leaves.
His chest tightened. His tension spiked instantly, blood racing through his veins. He forced his lips into something that wasn't quite a smile, wasn't quite calm. "H–hmm… girlfriend?" His laugh was too low, too nervous. "Why would you even "
Clara leaned forward slowly, her top dipping just enough to reveal the soft swell of her chest, the faint shadow of her cleavage deepening as her blouse clung to her. She tilted her body closer, closing the space, her perfume hitting him like a drug.
He gasped faintly, an audible hitch in his throat. His sigh escaped before he could reel it back, heat rushing to his face.
And while his eyes betrayed him, flicking downward for a split second too long, Clara's gaze wasn't where he thought. Her attention slid downward, to the edge of his wrist resting against the table. The faint outline of the sigil mark caught her eye.
She didn't move. She didn't point it out. She only leaned even closer, her smirk deepening as if she had discovered something Kael didn't even realize he was showing.
"You look… tense," she teased, voice a low hum. "Relax, Kael. You don't have to be so nervous with me."
But beneath that smirk, her eyes flicked once more to his wrist, sharper this time, and a shadow of curiosity glinted in her gaze.
Hours passed in a blur, and Kael couldn't shake the strangeness of how normal it all felt. Clara's laughter rang soft, her smirks gentle enough to make him believe this wasn't a trap, wasn't another game to break him. For the first time in a long while, he let himself breathe.
She's glorious… not like the others, he thought, watching the way her lips moved as she teased him, the curve of her hips when she leaned too close. This feels… real. Maybe this is what it's supposed to be.
But Clara's eyes… they told another story. She tilted her head, smirk curling as though she'd plucked every thought right out of him. His fears, his small hopes, even the way his heart raced whenever he compared her to Aimee.
"You're not bad after all," she said softly, her gaze steady, unblinking. Then her smirk deepened, playful and sharp. "You're thinking too much again, Kael. You should relax. Around me, you don't have to hide."
He frozed half startled, half lost. He hadn't said a word. Yet somehow, she was answering the voice in his head.
He laughed nervously, scratching his neck. "H-Hah… y-you're reading me too well…"
Clara leaned closer, chest brushing against him, eyes never leaving his. "Maybe I just know you," she whispered, voice low enough to shiver through him.
Kael swallowed hard. He didn't notice it yet, but every step of this "normal night" was her leading him, reading him, wrapping him further into her orbit. He thought he was catching a breath of freedom but in truth, he'd already crossed into her territory.
Later, as he stood to leave, she walked him to the door. Kael muttered something awkward about having a good time, when Clara leaned in, lips brushing his in a kiss so soft yet loaded it made his heart stop. Her body pressed against his, warmth and perfume clinging to him like a spell.
His mind spun, dazed and flushed. I guess… this is what it feels like. Normal. A date. Damn it, I just need to get Aimee's attention.
But when the door closed, She stood there smirking, her eyes glinting with satisfaction.
She didn't just know Kael. She had already begun to unravel him.
Kael hadn't known what he came across. That kiss… it was soft, delicate, almost innocent at first. But the more he thought about it, the heavier it lingered on his lips. Not just a brush of affection something deeper. Something binding.
Her lips had pressed against his like she wasn't simply kissing him, but marking him. Her smirk afterward wasn't random either; it curved from the corner of her mouth like the edge of a blade, cutting its way into his thoughts. A smile that said: I know you. I see you. I own the part of you you don't even realize is mine yet.
Kael walked out into the night air still dazed, his body humming with a mix of relief and adrenaline. His heart felt like it had run a race, pounding against his ribs. The wind hit his face, but it did nothing to clear the weight sitting in his chest.
Damn… maybe this is what it feels like… what it's supposed to feel like, he whispered inside himself, hands shoved deep into his pockets. For the first time, it didn't feel like temptation or humiliation it felt normal. Sweet even. Almost glorious. Clara didn't bite, didn't trap him with the suffocating seduction like others had. At least, that's what his mind told him.
But behind the closed door, Clara leaned against the frame, eyes narrowing, her smirk sharpening into something devilish. Her kiss hadn't been for romance. It was spellwork unseen, unfelt, but already threading into Kael's veins. She could read him as easily as turning the page of a book. Every flicker of his thoughts, every small spark of fear, every flush of his skin, all of it was hers.
He was walking away thinking he was free, but in truth he was bound tighter than he could imagine. Lust. Love. Seduction. All braided together, woven into him without his knowing.
The street lamps cast long shadows across his path, and for a second Kael swore he saw her shape in the corner of his eye. That same smirk. Watching. Waiting.
He shook his head, muttering, No, no… I'm imagining things. His chest ached; his lips still burned from her touch. He tried to push it away, tried to convince himself it was just normal… just a date.
But as he reached his door, Kael froze. His wrist throbbed beneath his sleeve, the sigil mark faintly glowing alive, reacting.
His breath caught in his throat.
That kiss… wasn't just a kiss.
And far behind him, in the silence of her room, Clara whispered his name with a smirk that carried the weight of certainty:
"You're mine now, Kael."