Chapter 87 Heart-Shaped Strawberries
[Nyx]
"You're my sister." The words came out fierce, protective. "I would never abandon you. Never again."
Lilith's eyes shimmered with tears, but before she could respond, the door opened.
Damon walked in carrying a carefully balanced tray—a thermos of what smelled like chicken soup, some kind of soft porridge, and fresh fruit cut into small pieces. His hair was still slightly damp, like he'd just showered, and he'd changed into fresh clothes, but the dark circles under his eyes betrayed how little he'd actually slept.
"You're awake!" His face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds. He set the tray down on the bedside table and immediately reached for Lilith's hand. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain? Do you need me to call Dr. Harrison?"
"I'm okay," Lilith said softly, her cheeks flushing pink. "Just tired."
"Then you need to eat." He was already opening the container of porridge, testing the temperature with his finger. "Dr. Harrison said you need to start with something gentle. I had the hospital kitchen make this specially—it's got ginger and honey, easy on your stomach."
I caught Lysander's eye. His lips twitched like he was fighting a smile.
Damon carefully scooped up a small spoonful, blowing on it gently before holding it toward Lilith's lips. "Open."
"Damon, I can feed myself—" she started.
"Humor me." His voice was soft but stubborn. "Please?"
Lilith's expression melted. She opened her mouth, letting him feed her.
"Good?" he asked anxiously.
"Perfect." She smiled at him, and the tenderness in that exchange made something in my chest ache.
He fed her another spoonful, then another, his entire focus on her. Between bites, he kept touching her—smoothing her hair back, adjusting her blankets, his fingers constantly seeking contact as if to reassure himself she was really there.
After the fourth spoonful, Lilith caught his wrist gently. "Damon... I need to talk to Nyx. Alone. Just for a few minutes."
The spoon stopped halfway to her mouth.
Damon's expression immediately shifted—his brows drawing together, lips pressing into a pout that would've been comical if it wasn't so genuine.
"What?" He actually whined a little. "Why?"
"Sister stuff," Lilith said, trying to suppress a smile at his reaction. "I just need a few minutes with Nyx."
"But I just got here!" Now he was definitely pouting, his free hand still holding hers. "I brought you food. I cut up the fruit into little pieces. The nurse said you like strawberries, so I made sure there were extra strawberries—"
"And it's wonderful," Lilith interrupted, her voice warm with affection. "But—"
"And I practiced cutting them into hearts!" He gestured at the fruit container where, indeed, several strawberries had been painstakingly carved into heart shapes. "Do you know how hard it is to cut strawberries into hearts? I ruined like six of them before I got it right!"
I heard a sound from Lysander's direction—like a cough that might have been covering a laugh. When I glanced at him, his shoulders were shaking slightly.
"Damon." Lilith's voice was patient but firm, though her eyes were dancing with suppressed laughter. "The hearts are beautiful. I love them. But I really need to talk to my sister."
"What could you possibly need to talk about that I can't hear?" He was full-on sulking now, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand. "I'm your mate. We're supposed to share everything. No secrets."
"It's not a secret, it's just—" Lilith paused, clearly trying to find the right words. "Girl talk. Sister stuff."
"Sister stuff," he repeated, his tone skeptical. His eyes narrowed slightly. "What kind of sister stuff? Is it about me? Are you complaining about me?"
"What? No!" Lilith laughed despite herself. "Damon—"
"Because if you're going to complain about me, I should at least be here to defend myself." He was still holding the spoon, gesturing with it for emphasis. "I'm a very good mate. I make heart-shaped strawberries. I sit by your bedside for hours. I even learned how to make that soup you like—"
"Nobody's complaining about you," I interjected, unable to hold back my amusement any longer.
Damon's head swung toward me, his pout deepening. "Then why can't I stay?"
Lysander made that sound again—definitely a suppressed laugh this time.
"Because," Lilith said, tugging on his hand to get his attention back, "sometimes girls need to talk to their sisters privately. That's just how it works."
"That's a stupid rule," Damon muttered, but his voice had lost its edge. He was just being stubborn now, and everyone in the room knew it.
"Damon." Lilith's voice turned soft, coaxing. "Please? Just ten minutes. Then you can come right back and feed me all the heart-shaped strawberries you want."
He stared at her for a long moment, clearly warring with himself. Finally, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Fine," he grumbled. "But I'm timing it. Ten minutes. Not eleven. Ten."
"Deal." Lilith smiled, pulling him down for a quick kiss.
When he straightened, he pointed at the thermos. "The soup's still warm. And there's juice in the other container. Make sure she drinks something—she needs to stay hydrated."
"I'll make sure," I promised.
He picked up the spoon again, deliberately feeding Lilith one more bite. "Okay, one more because you need your strength."
"Damon—" Lilith tried to protest through her laughter.
"And one more." Another spoonful.
"Damon!"
"Last one, I promise." He fed her another bite, then finally, reluctantly, set the spoon down. "Okay. I'm going. But I'm right outside. If you need anything—anything—"
"I know." Lilith caught his hand, squeezing. "Thank you."
He leaned down, pressing a long kiss to her forehead, lingering there. When he pulled back, his eyes were serious despite his earlier playfulness.
"I love you," he said quietly.
"I love you too," she whispered back.
As he walked toward the door, he paused beside me and Lysander. "Ten minutes," he repeated, holding up ten fingers for emphasis.
"We heard you the first time," I said, fighting a smile.
"Just making sure." He pointed at his watch. "I'm setting a timer."
The door closed behind him, and for a moment, the room was silent.
Then Lilith let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sob. "He's ridiculous."
"He's in love," I corrected, moving to sit in the chair Damon had vacated. "There's a difference."
Lysander leaned against the wall near the door, his expression soft with approval of what we'd just witnessed.
But Lilith's expression was already changing, the laughter fading as fear crept back in.
"Nyx," she whispered, her voice suddenly shaking. "I need to tell you something. About the avalanche."