The field of flowers still stretched endlessly, petals swaying gently in the breeze, but Yumi barely noticed the scenery anymore. Her heart was pounding too loudly, partly from the walk, partly from the subtle tension lingering from Pherrie's teasing earlier.
"Yumi, come here," Pherrie said suddenly, his voice soft but commanding. Before she could respond, he stepped forward and scooped her up effortlessly into his arms.
Yumi gasped, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. "P-Pherrie! Wh-what are you doing?" she stammered, her cheeks flaming crimson.
"I'm carrying my Princess," he said, smirking down at her, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Does this feel… special?"
Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. "I-I… it's heavy!" she squeaked, though the warmth of his arms, the closeness of his body, and the playful teasing in his gaze made it impossible to focus on anything else.
"You're not heavy at all," Pherrie said smoothly, his voice teasing yet tender. "Besides, a Princess deserves to be carried like one."
Yumi's breath caught, and she could only manage a small, flustered laugh. Every movement he made—the sway as he walked, the gentle tilt of his body, the brush of his lips near her temple when he leaned slightly—made her pulse race and her thoughts scatter.
From the edge of the field, a sharp voice broke the moment. "Wait… what?!" Damian's eyes widened in shock and, undeniably, jealousy. His jaw tightened as he watched Pherrie carry Yumi like she was weightless, her small hands clinging to Pherrie's neck, cheeks burning. "You… you're holding her? Like that?"
Pherrie glanced over his shoulder with a teasing grin. "Yes, Damian. And my Princess seems perfectly happy, don't you think?" His tone was playful but firm, the kind that left no room for argument.
Yumi felt a small thrill of warmth at the possessiveness in his words. Damian's frustrated scowl only made her pulse flutter faster. She realized just how much Pherrie's confidence, teasing, and protectiveness excited her—and that Damian's jealousy made it even more… intoxicating.
"P-Pherrie, please… careful," she whispered, burying her face slightly in his shoulder as he navigated through the flowers. Every accidental brush of his chest against hers, every sway of his arms holding her, made her knees weak and her thoughts scattered.
"You're safe with me, Princess," Pherrie murmured, his tone dipping into something soft and almost possessive. "I won't let anything—or anyone—spoil this moment."
Yumi felt herself melt into his embrace, a mixture of warmth, thrill, and fluttering tension overwhelming her. Damian's distant glare only made her squeeze closer, the strange satisfaction of being noticed, protected, and desired by Pherrie washing over her.
As Pherrie carried her across the field, the sun casting golden light over their path, Yumi couldn't help but think that being carried like a princess—flustered, teased, and watched with quiet jealousy—might just be the best feeling in the world.
And with Pherrie smirking down at her, holding her effortlessly yet possessively, she knew one thing for certain: moments like these were dangerously, deliciously addictive.