Chapter 49
Chapter 49
KAT’S POV
By the time we return to the villa, it’s night time.
The ocean wind is cooler now. I feel the cold against my skin as we step inside. The fireplace crackles low. I don’t want the night to end, not after everything we saw and everything we did, so before I can overthink it, I turn to Percy.
“Let’s cook dinner,” I say.
He blinks. “Cook?”
“Yeah.” I toss my bag onto the counter. “You know, food. Heat. Flavor. Human things.”
He looks genuinely confused, like I just invited him to stab himself with a fork. “I’m… not exactly skilled in that department.”
I grin. “Perfect. I’ll teach you.”
He hesitates for one dramatic second, then shrugs. “Alright. If I burn down your beautiful evening, just know I warned you.”
Within minutes, the kitchen is chaos. And it’s entirely his fault.
Percy stares at the cutting board like onions personally wronged him. He tries chopping them, but somehow he keeps missing. The knife thunks wildly against the board, and the onion pieces look like they were mauled by a wild animal.
I burst out laughing so hard I nearly drop my own knife. “What - what are you doing?”
“Chopping,” he says defensively.
“That’s not chopping. That’s… murder.”
He lifts the knife again. “It’s effective.”
“No, it’s tragic.” I can hardly breathe from laughing. “Give me that.”
He clutches the knife to his chest. “I can do it.”
“You absolutely cannot. Step away.”
He steps back with a wounded look, and I take over, slicing the onion in clean, smooth motions. Percy watches me like my knife skills are some divine power.
Then the flour happens.
We’re trying – trying - to make a simple dessert. Something easy. Something foolproof.
Except Percy grabs the bag of flour, miscalculates gravity, and suddenly a white cloud explodes into the air like a snowy apocalypse.
“Percy!” I choke, coughing in a white haze.
He freezes, eyes wide, coated head to toe in flour like a very elegant ghost. “I - this was not my fault.”
“It absolutely was!” I wipe my face, laughing so hard it hurts. “Why did you lift it like that? Why?”
“I don’t know! It slipped!”
We’re both coughing, laughing, half-blind, and the counter is buried. The floor is a disaster. My hair looks like it aged fifty years in two seconds.
Then, as if that’s not enough, he reaches for the stove and, of course, turns on the wrong burner. The one with nothing on it. The metal glows red instantly.
Percy jumps back, horrified. “It’s angry.”
“It’s a stove, Percy.”
“It hissed at me,” he insists.
“It did not.” I’m doubled over laughing again. “You’re hallucinating from the flour.”
He shoots me a look, steps closer, and mutters with a crooked half-smile, “I wasn’t hired for my domestic skills.”
“‘Hired?’” I raise a brow. “So this is a job?”
She shrugs “Being with you feels like everything but.”
I giggle. His eyes hold mine a little too long. I feel it, that shift in the air. That warmth under the surface. The connection I feel to him is strong. I feel something pulling me to him.
We’re brushing shoulders every time we move. Bumping hips when we switch places near the stove. Our hands graze when we reach for the same spoon. Every accidental touch lingers longer than it should.
And despite all the chaos, we somehow – somehow - manage to cook something edible. Two bowls of creamy pasta, lightly burnt bread, and a dessert that miraculously survived our incompetence.
We set it all on the small dining table near the window, where candles flicker softly and the ocean glows silver under the moon.
The villa feels smaller like this. It feels intimate.
We sit.
Halfway through the meal, Percy sets down his wine and takes a slow, steady breath. Something changes in his eyes. .
“Kat,” he says quietly.
I look up. “Yeah?”
“You saved me on that ski trip.”
My fork pauses mid-air. “What?”
He leans back slightly, studying me.
“And I don’t mean physically,” he continues. “You made me feel… something I hadn’t felt in years.”
My heart stumbles. He reaches out then gently takes my hand. I freeze—but I don’t pull away.
His touch is warm. My hand feels right in his.
“I don’t know how you did it,” he murmurs. “But you walked in, and everything shifted. You were, God, you were this force. This light. Even when you didn’t see it.”
I swallow hard. “Percy…”
“I searched for you for years” he says “I’m glad I found you. I’m so happy, Kat. You have no idea how much I feel for you”
The words hit me so hard tears prick instantly at the corners of my eyes. I blink fast, trying to hide it, reaching for my wine glass just to keep my hands busy.
He squeezes my hand, thumb brushing lightly over my knuckles. He touches me tenderly, like I’m something precious.
The ache in my chest swells. I don’t know if I want to run or fall into him.
“Percy,” I whisper “Don’t say things like that.”
He leans in “Why? Because they’re true?”
I look away, trembling. I feel overwhelmed by everything I’ve buried for a while suddenly rushing to the surface. The tension between us stretches tight, too tight, like something about to break.
He stands slowly. My breath catches.
He moves toward me. He kneels slightly to meet my eyes, giving me every chance to back away.
I don’t.
His hands lift, cupping my face with the softest touch. His palms are warm against my skin, thumbs brushing my cheeks. My heart is pounding so violently I’m sure he can feel it.
“Kat,” he whispers.
And then his lips meet mine.
The kiss deepens. It’s full of all the things we kept swallowing back. My hands slide into his shirt, gripping the fabric, pulling him closer like I need him nearer, like he’s the air I breathe.
Percy’s hands move to my waist, pulling me into him gently but desperately, holding me like I’m the only thing keeping him alive, like he’s been waiting for this moment and trying not to want it too much.
“…Percy…” I whisper, voice barely there.