Chapter 25 Sienna's POV
“You know you didn't have to make dinner right? You just got back. We could have ordered take out” I commented and he smiled at me.
“I wasn't busy so I decided to try something quick.” with the way he said it you'd think he whipped something up fast but I knew him and I knew he spent hours prepping.
“The place looks amazing.” I commented while looking around the house.
it was gorgeous and even that was an understatement to just how beautifully designed it was.
He had set the place up pretty well.
“Thanks. If there is anything you want to change please feel free to change it. You don't have to hesitate” he said and I nodded.
The lights were dim but soft, like he wanted everything to feel… calm. Safe. And then I saw the dining table already set with two plates, cutlery arranged with precision, napkins folded like a restaurant.
“Kael,” I repeated, stepping toward the kitchen. “You just got back from being detained and the first thing you thought of was cooking?”
“I’m fine.” He brushed past me, heading toward the stove. “It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal?” I stared at him. “Most people would be asleep or having a breakdown.”
He didn’t look at me. “I wanted to feed you.”
Oh.
I swallowed. “I should shower first. I smell like work.”
Finally, he looked at me, eyes softening. “Okay. Take your time. The guest bathroom’s through there.”
Guest bathroom.
“What am I going to wear?” I asked
“I'll set something out for you in the bedroom, it's faster so the food doesnt get cold” he offered like it was a reasonable idea and I nodded.
I lived right beside him, I could just walk out the door and into my own apartment and take that shower and wear my own clothes but didn't want to. I wanted to listen to every word he said.
I slipped inside the bathroom and shut the door behind me, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
The steam from the shower filled the room quickly, and I stepped under the hot water, letting it wash everything off, work, stress all my worrying,
When I stepped out, I changed into fresh clothes, his shorts and an oversized hoodie and tied my hair up. I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment, trying to decide why my heart felt heavier than before.
Maybe it was the way he said “I wanted to feed you.” Maybe it was the look in his eyes when I first walked in. Maybe it was fear that he wasn’t as okay as he pretended.
I walked back out into the main room.
Kael was waiting by the dining table.
He’d dimmed the lights a little more, set two glasses of water, and was putting the final dish on the table. The food looked better than anything I’d eaten in weeks.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I said softly.
“I know.” His voice was a low rumble. “But I wanted to.”
I sat down across from him. The first bite nearly melted in my mouth. “This is really good.”
He gave a small, almost shy shrug. “I like cooking.”
Silence settled, comfortable and warm and I let it linger. We ate the whole meal in silence and he plated our desert.
We continued to eat, staring at each other until I finally gathered enough courage to ask, “So… what happened? With the Council?”
His shoulders tensed. “Nothing serious.”
“Kael.” I set my fork down. “You were detained.”
“They wanted to ensure I was sane.” He said it like someone reading a grocery list.
My brows furrowed. “What does that even mean?”
He paused. “They run tests.”
“What kind of tests?”
He didn’t answer immediately. His jaw clenched. His gaze dropped to his his desert
And that told me everything.
It was horrible.
Whatever they did to him, whatever those “tests” were, he wasn’t saying because he didn’t want me to know.
I swallowed hard. “Kael, come here.”
He looked up, confused. “I am here.”
“No. Closer.” to the space beside me gesturing that he move his chair beside me
Slowly, cautiously, he got up, moved his chair and sat beside me. Not touching, but close enough that I felt the warmth radiating from him.
“I care about you,” I said quietly.
His breath hitched. Just a tiny sound, but I caught it.
“It’s been…” He exhaled shakily. “It’s been years since someone cared for me.” His eyes drifted, unfocused. “Since…” His voice trailed off.
I hesitated, then gently asked, “Is it the person who loved mozzarella sticks?”
His head jerked slightly, surprised. Then he nodded. “Yes.”
I reached for his hand, letting my fingers wrap around his. He didn’t pull away. If anything, he held on tighter than I expected, like he was grounding himself.
“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” I said.
“I want to.” His voice was soft. “I haven’t talked about them in a long time.”
I waited. Patient. Careful.
“They died,” he said finally. “A long time ago.”
My heart sank.
“We were young. Too young. I don’t know if things would’ve lasted forever or if we were just clinging to something because we wanted it so badly. But it meant something to me then. They meant something.”
I squeezed his hand. “I understand. And I’m here. If you want support. If you want someone to just sit with you. If you want anything, I’m here.”
He stared at me, like he was trying to read something written across my face, something he didn’t trust himself to hope for.
His hand tightened around mine.
And then he leaned in.
It wasn’t rushed or hungry or impulsive. It was slow, cautious, like he was asking a question with the space between us and waiting to see if I’d pull back.
I didn’t.
His lips touched mine in a soft, careful kiss that lasted only a few seconds but felt like did something in my chest.
It was gentle, almost fragile, like he was afraid he’d break me or himself if he pushed too far.
When he pulled back, his forehead brushed mine. He breathed out.
“I… shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, like he regretted it and wanted it at the same time.
“You’re fine,” I whispered back. “It’s okay.”
His eyes softened, shadows still lingering behind them. But for the first time since I’d met him, something light flickered there. Something hopeful.
I leaned back in and kissed him.
He froze at first and I was worried that maybe he wasn't ready.
He lost someone he loved and maybe he still carried the scar and wasn't ready for something new.
I said I'd wait yet I was kissing him. I started to pull away when he pulled me back in this time harder and kissed me.
It was hard, firm. Desperate as if if he let go of me I'd take back the kis
s and he didn't want that to happen.
“More” I whimpered. I didn't even realize it until it was out.
I was a wreak