Chapter 425:
This time, Kristian didn’t try to stop her.
Together, they quietly busied themselves, putting things back in order, piece by piece.
Knowing all too well how particular Kristian was about cleanliness, Freya asked where the spare bed sheets and blanket were. After he pointed them out, she replaced the ones in the master bedroom that Alan had ruined.
By the time Kristian had finished tidying the rest of the place, he looked up to see Freya still moving around, her silhouette weaving gently through the room.
He walked over and took the blanket from her hands, his voice composed and even. “The guest room’s ready. Go wash up and get some sleep.”
He hadn’t forgotten how religiously Freya stuck to her sleep schedule.
“No…” Freya began, but before the words could fully leave her lips, Kristian was already standing beside her.
His shoulder brushed lightly against hers, and she caught that familiar, crisp scent that clung to him.
Just as she moved to step away, Kristian reached out and took the blanket from her hands, starting to make the bed himself.
Sensing the change in atmosphere, Freya shifted slightly to the side and let him finish.
She wasn’t one to get swept up in sentimentality, but right then, something about Kristian’s quiet gestures reminded her of warmth once shared.
When he was distant, he was impossible to approach. But when he was gentle, he was impossible to resist.
With his striking features, polished manners, and athletic frame, Kristian carried himself with an air of refinement. And that scent—clean, subtle—always seemed to sneak up on her, lodging itself somewhere between memory and emotion. From afar, it was manageable. Up close, it left her heart skipping. It was indeed true that desire could be dangerous.
Freya was just about to leave and break whatever moment had begun to form when Kristian called her name. “Freya.”
𝖂𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊: ⲅⱥ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⸳𝖼𝗈𝗺
“What is it?” Her expression remained as composed as ever, untouched by the tension in the air.
“Are you and Melvin actually together?” he asked suddenly, his voice softer, touched with something almost intimate.
Freya couldn’t explain why, but whenever Kristian spoke to her in that quiet, gentle tone, her gaze would instinctively drift to his face, and her defenses would drop.
Just like now.
Without giving it much thought, she answered, “No.”
“That’s good,” Kristian said, the corners of his lips lifting into the faintest smile.
He started to lift his hand, as if to tousle her hair, but stopped midway, remembering the distance that still existed between them. After a second’s pause, he let his hand fall away.
Freya had already prepared herself to swat him off—she wasn’t fond of casual affection from those she wasn’t close to—but when he stopped, it left her momentarily thrown.
People were strange that way.
When something didn’t go as expected, it somehow left a deeper impression.
It was a completely ordinary moment, and yet Freya, who’d been ready to reject his gesture, now found herself giving silent credit to Kristian for knowing when to draw the line.
“You should go clean up and rest,” Kristian said, his voice calm and clear, setting boundaries. “I’ll move Alan to the bed.”
But Freya had no plans to stay the night. “No need. I’ll just take him home directly.”
.
.
.