Chapter 94 BUTTERFLIES IN MY CHEST
LUCIEN
"Dinnertime," I announce as soon as her finger drops from mine.
"Oh, okay," she says, taking a step back. "I will go change and meet you at the table," she says, looking down at her body. I shake my head, and her eyebrow goes up in a questioning manner. "What?"
"I am going down to bring dinner up for you," I say, and she shakes her head.
"I am strong; I think I want to..."
"Nope, you aren't strong, and no movement until the doctor clears you, so..." I stop and lift her off the floor; when I stop at the bed, I lower her gently onto it. "Stay here until I get back with dinner."
"But..." She tries to get off the bed, but I push her back down.
"But nothing; remember, these are doctors' orders," I lie. Mae had said that she was going to be okay in a few hours, but I wanted to keep her close. I know that if we go down to the table, then I would have to say goodbye to her faster than I wanted, and she won't spend the night here.
"Did Mae now?" She raised her pitch higher than usual as she threw me a playful, questioning expression.
"Yes, she did."
"Then I guess you'd be okay with me calling her."
"Of course, just after you've had dinner and your medicine," I say, trying to remain bold so she does not see through my lies.
"Hmm, okay then," she nods.
I move away from her before I remember what I had left the room to do earlier; I walk back to the bed and sit by her side. "You have to promise me that you won't laugh," I say with my hand in my pocket.
"Laugh? At what?" She seemed confused by my sudden request. "What am I supposed not to laugh at?"
"At this," I take out the old picture, and with the back down, I place it in her hand. She turns it over immediately, and I see her eyes grow wide in excitement. Her face looks at the picture and then up at me, and then at the picture, and then a squeal escapes her lips.
"It's you when you were a baby," she said, all of her teeth baring out in happiness.
"Yes, it is."
"And you were cute," her voice covered mine with excitement. "Can I keep it?" She asked almost immediately, and I sighed with a nod.
"I brought it for you," I say, almost confused by her reaction. The picture was goofy, and I had expected her to mock me for being the typical rounded-glasses-and-suspenders-wearing nerd, but she thought I was cute?
"Oh my goodness, I am going to keep it," she said. This time, she was no longer looking at me. Her full attention was on the picture in her hand.
"I don't know who you are more impressed with, the picture or me," I murmur, hoping she won't hear it, but she looks up at me with a playful frown. "You seem to like the picture more."
"I only like it because it is of you," she says, and from the way her facial expression changed, I can tell she didn't mean to say it; she cleared her throat and looked away. "I mean..." she tried to correct herself, but it seemed she had no words.
"Who do you like better?" I ask as if I were competing against someone else. She turned to me slowly with a questioning expression on her face. "That nerdy boy or me?"
"I mean, this boy seems too cute. How can you ask me to choose?" she said, and I don't know why I felt rejected, but then she looked up at me and held my face. "But this man in front of me is handsome."
We both stop in our tracks and stare at each other as if everything else in the room had stopped for us before she breaks eye contact by looking away like a schoolchild confronted by their crush, and I honestly do not know how I am supposed to react to that now, so I stand up and clear my throat.
"I am going to bring dinner," I say awkwardly, and then walk away. I stand by the other side of the door with my hand against my chest as I feel the rhythm of my heart hasten as I recount the interaction from earlier. I try my best to steady my heartbeat before I walk away.
"Why do you look like that?" I look over at Theo, standing there with a smug smirk on his face.
"Like how?" I ask, trying to act as if I did not understand what he was getting at.
"Oh come on, Lucien." He stops himself and then moves closer. "Or should I say Timothy?" he asked, suggestively wiggling his eyebrow. I shake my head and push past him.
"I don't know what you are getting at; I am just here to get dinner for Nirelle."
"Oh, is she still very sick, or are you just keeping her in your room?" He asked, and it was strange how accurate he was about things like these.
"You want to come see for yourself? How sick is she?" I ask, trying to act normal.
"Oh no, I don't want to be in the same room where you're getting all giddy and blushing," he says and then clicks his tongue. "I don't want to be in between two lovers, so carry on, and I will see her in the morning."
"Is that all?" I ask as he walks away.
"What else?" He stops, crosses his hand over his chest and leans his head in. "Do you want me to give more advice?" He pauses and does not wait for me to respond. "Make babies, many of them. You both would make the cutest children, but make sure they all have the personalities of Nirelle and none of yours," he adds before walking away.
"I meant, aren't you going to give me a report from today?" I called, but he was already long gone. I shake my head and walk to the kitchen, the thought of what he had said creating a thousand butterflies in my stomach. I knew that Nirelle had absolutely shut down the idea of having sex when she came and that babies went along with it, but I could not help but wonder if her mind had been changed already.