Chapter 33
Jack
"Why are you on the floor?" a voice asks, soft and curious.
I don't even have to look up. I'm already staring at a round, fleshy ball, about the size of a very smug watermelon. Several months of pregnancy on full display.
I can picture his face without seeing it—golden eyes half-lidded, lips curved in that tiny confused pout.
"I may or may not have gone overboard teasing your soulmate," I groan from my spot on the floor. My ribs still ache. Totally worth it, though.
My gaze drifts to his feet he's barefoot, his toes peeking out from his house slippers, the hem of his loose shorts swaying against his knees. Ridiculously cute.
"You're lucky you only got off with a slight bruise," the watermelon declares gravely.
I snort. "I can't help it. His reactions are cute."
"You're probably the only person on this planet who thinks that way," the stomach responds dryly.
"You call him cute all the time," I shoot back without missing a beat.
"I don't count," he says, like it's obvious. With a soft grunt, he lowers himself to the floor beside me. It takes him a bit of effort with that big belly, but he manages, settling in like he belongs there.
And now I can finally look at the face behind the voice. The crimson lashes, the faint glow of concern in those golden eyes. Up close, it's… a lot. In a good way.
"It just means we have a similar aesthetic sense," I mutter, trying for casual.
Ciel doesn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he leans forward and places his hand against my stomach. His palm is warm even through my shirt, and I let out a dramatic groan.
Okay, fine—it doesn't hurt that much. But I exaggerate.
Because when I exaggerate, he looks at me like this. Concern softens his whole face. And I'll take any excuse to see that.
"Does it hurt that bad?" he asks, brows furrowed. His fingers tug up my shirt hem like he's about to diagnose me himself.
I prop myself up on one elbow, watching him fuss over me with all the seriousness of a mother hen. No one's ever reacted to my pain like this. Not in either of my lives. It's… new. And dangerously addictive.
"A lot," I deadpan.
He squints at me, clearly unconvinced. Then—betrayal of betrayals—he pinches my abdomen.
"Ow!" This time the yelp is real.
Ciel sits back, a smug little glint in his eyes. "Now it hurts for real," he says, utterly unbothered.
"So I noticed Nolan has three piercing holes on his left ear too," I say, shifting upright. Without thinking, I brush Ciel's crimson hair aside to check, fingertips tracing the curve of his ear.
He shivers. Just barely, but enough for me to notice.
Whoa.
My heart stutters. I pull my hand back like his skin burned me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," he interrupts, voice softer now. His lips curl in the faintest smile, his eyes distant with a memory I'm not part of.
"And yes. We got them to match."
The fondness in his voice makes my chest ache in ways I don't examine too closely.
I suddenly don't know what to do with my hand.So I bring my knee up and rest my hand there, like an idiot obviously trying to look cool and nonchalant.
Why does he do this to me?
I can trade gunfire, negotiate underworld deals, hell I've been shot once or twice maybe thrice (occupational hazard) and didn't even flinch. But Ciel? Ciel turns me into some tongue-tied teenager hoping the cool kids invite me to sit with them at lunch.
He glances at me again, golden eyes curious. "And you? Do you have a piercing?"
Actually, I do.
The original Jack clearly was up to some insane shit, and I thought it looked cool, so I left it there. It's not exactly the kind of thing you casually mention at a baby shower though.
"Maybe," I hedge, trying not to die on the spot.
"You're no fair, always so vague about yourself," he complains with a little pout that does terrible things to my self-control.
Yeah, well, forgive me for not announcing that I have a very strategically placed piece of jewelry.
And I don't want to be vague with him—not really. But I genuinely don't know what this Jack lived through, and I can't exactly talk about my… previous life. So I do what I always do when I'm cornered by feelings.
"I think you're very pretty," I say, pivoting smoothly.
He blinks, startled. "Thank you. I think you're very handsome too," he says, letting it slide.
Then he looks at me. Really looks. His golden eyes flick down—just once—to my mouth. Then back up.
My brain short-circuits.
Did he just—?
A kiss?
This is the moment for a kiss, right??? My heart is pounding like a drum in my ears, and I swear if he moves even an inch closer, I might actually combust.
And then—
Error.
Ciel leans up and presses his lips to mine.
It's quick. Barely a second. A feather-light touch before he moves back like nothing happened, while my entire universe has tilted on its axis.
I blink. "???"
"What was that for?" My voice cracks embarrassingly, my heart trying to sprint out of my chest.
"I wanted to," he says simply, as if he didn't just detonate my entire nervous system with five syllables.
Ah.
Ah.
Ahhhhhhhhhh.
I collapse to the ground like someone unplugged me. My hands fly up to cover my burning face. I can feel the grin splitting my cheeks but I'm powerless to stop it,internally screaming like a teenager with his first crush.
God, I'm so gone.