♪♪ Get used to me falling through, just to see your face.
There ain't a moment I won't need your brace
Get used to me touching you
Get used to me loving you♪♪
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ [Get used to it] - [Justin Bieber]
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Esmé steered awake, lightly groaning, giving herself time to adjust to the light in the room. The strength around her waist and the muscular surface beneath her body, a vast difference from the soft cushioned couch, brought a smile that grew on her lips once the events of the day drifted to the forefront of her mind.
She raised her head slightly from their position on Kian's chest to look at him. The book that lay open on his face made her smile even more.
They began the day with a decision to just relax since there were both free for the majority of the time. After eating, Kian suggested reading to them, which was where they both fell asleep.
Though now that she was awake, she wasn't pretty sure it was listening to him read to her that got her to fall asleep but she lost track of things the moment she placed her head on his chest; just listening to the peaceful beat of his heart did the magic.
With as much movement as the hand around her waist let her, she removed the book from his face carefully and placed it on the table by the side.
Turning back to him, she was grateful for the light to take in the peaceful sight before her that the darkness in the theatre room the previous night prevented her from appreciating.
His brown-sugar hair stood in all directions, augmenting his messy look. His forehead lacked any crease and made him look like a cute little child having the best sleep of his life.
Kian's rhythmic breathing changed as his lips curled into a smile just before he opened his eyes.
The smile increased once Kian's obsidian blue eyes settled on her.
"Morning." His husky voice reverberated through his body to hers. "You really don't have to make it obvious that I'm a sight to drool for." He raised his hands to clean off a non-existent drool from the side of her lips.
She swatted his hands away and with a teasing glint, Esmé raised both eyebrows and asked, "You are?"
"You want to deny that?" he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes and without giving her a chance to reply, he tickled her till she was a mess of laughter.
"S- st- stop, stop. F- fine! Bed hair looks wonderful on you."
He laughed. The sound rumbled through their tangled bodies.
"I'm serious, actually. It's quite an honour to see it up close. The first time was good, but this is definitely better."
His laughter ceased as he narrowed his eyes at her. "The first time?"
She groaned, throwing her head backwards, realizing the secret she just let out.
"I'm very curious now that I see your reluctance to tell me."
With a sheepish smile on her lips, she rolled her eyes at him before giving in. "It was the day I gave you that letter and made you breakfast for the first time."
His face brightened up and the corner of his lips quirked up, remembering the letter he had carefully placed in a drawer in his room. "The 'To my jailer host' letter?"
Esmé nodded and pointed to the sofa by their right-hand side. "Yes. I hid behind that sofa whilst you were reading it."
"What?" Kian almost choked. "No way. I'm so sure I looked around that day to see if you were around somewhere."
"That's the point of hiding, my dear jailer host. It's so you don't see me," she said, giving him a soft tap of the nose.
"Is that so, my beautiful prisoner guest?"
"No," Esmé choked out. "We will not make a thing out of this."
"But why? Don't you think it will be unique?"
Her deadpan expression made him laugh.
"Alright, alright. We won't make a thing out of that. After all, it reminds me of a time I am not proud of. Instead, with the way you swayed into my life and threw my still heart into a beating mess, there's only one name that's just for you." He paused at her teasing smile and raised an eyebrow, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Moje scre." (My heart).
She leaned into his touch with a silly grin on her face. Him calling her his heart was one thing that made her toes coil, but there was also the fact that he had learned the word in Croatia. "Just when we think you might not be romantic anymore."
"It's being recharged." He chuckled and raised his head up to give her a kiss that set the tingles in her stomach on fire.
Midway through the kiss, a grumble from her stomach cut through causing both of them to pull back laughing.
Kian rested his head back down with a smirk. "Looks like your stomach needs recharging."
"Looks like it," Esmé replied with hesitation, knowing getting food meant standing from the comfortable position she was in.
Another rumble from her stomach was all it took to convince her.
"Fine." She puffed, standing and helping Kian up. "But you are the one who's going to give it the right electricity it needs."
Kian laughs and wraps his hands around her waist, letting her lead the way into the kitchen. "If you want to taste my cooking so badly, moje scre, there's really no need to get creative about it. All you just need to do is say it."
Esmé threw her head back in laughter, and Kian placed a light kiss on her opened neck.
A chime from Kian's phone broke into their moment, and they stopped walking. Kian took a step back after promising to catch on with her. He pulled his phone out and, brows furrowed at the message he read there, ending it with a sigh.
Esmé turned around with a raised brow. "Is everything okay?"
With his mind focused on the message, he just hummed in response.
This didn't satisfy her as his brows furrowed, causing creasing on his forehead. She walked back to him and straightened out the crease on his forehead softly with her thumb.
The action pulled Kian's attention from his thoughts. He took her hands away from his head and pecked them, smiling at her.
"What's up?" she asked again.
Kian paused staring at the Esmé's concerned pursed lips. He didn't want to tell her what was bothering her so it wouldn't get her worked up, but since she noticed his worried gaze, not telling her was going to have the same effect either way so he said, "It's Ronnie. He's worried about Petra."
"Is there something I don't know going on again?" Her forehead wrinkled and the concern in her tone increased.
His hands moved instantly to release the crease on her forehead whilst shaking his head. "No, nothing at all. It's just that he's happy she's not hiding anymore and is trying to get better, but she's being too civil with him and it has him very concerned."
"We can't really expect anything less at the moment."
"I know, I know that, but with TWFDI coming up..."
"T what now?" Esmé's head jerked backwards and her brows arched upward.
Kian chuckled at her surprise, realizing something at that moment. "You've never met the Wilson family apart from Ronnie and Petra, right?"
"Well, no," Esmé replied with a pout. It was something that pestered her about not meeting Petra's family, but she always shrugged it off, concluding that there had to be a reason for it.
"That's why this may come as a shock. The Wilson Family Day In, TWFDI, is some sort of tradition the Wilsons created. Since no one in their family knows how to cook, they had that one day when they invite a chef, either local or foreign, to make use of the decoration that is their kitchen to prepare a special dish for them. It's their own form of family bonding. Whilst other families go out to the beach or picnic or something, that's what they do. They've got the money for it, so it works."
Esmé stared at him with her mouth open. That was the most bizarre family tradition she had ever heard of. "That's..."
"... Weird like the rest of the family. You should meet them soon, anyway."
"But why is Ronnie worried about it because of Petra?"
Kian nodded and settled down into a chair by the side. "Petra picks the country and chef they go with. Since she hasn't brought it up and they're walking on eggshells around her, they're worried, most especially Louisa."
Esmé rested on the table by Kian's side. Petra didn't like the eggshells everyone seemed to walk on around her, but she also wasn't sure how to put it out there. Turning to Kian to hear his opinion on things, she noticed a lightly lit face and tilted her head slightly to the side. "You have something in mind about this?"
"They want to have this occasion, hoping it can bridge the gap created. They want to show their support for her and also pull her to them so she doesn't drift too far away whilst trying to find herself. I'm thinking, since Petra is a sucker for my mom's cooking, maybe having her invite them over for a mini family gathering can work out? I feel this would be better since it..."
"... won't be the immediate family where Petra might feel constricted, but with the presence of others, she might be freer?" Esmé completed understanding his logic. But at the cautious movement, he was making, she figured something else was up. "What's the issue with the idea?"
"My mother."
"Persephone? What do you mean?"
"She hasn't exactly been keen about their tradition of hiring chefs from all around, so she's never cooked for the occasion. Whatever her reasons are, I don't know if she'll want to do this."
Esmé looked heavenward in thought for a second before turning to Kian with a smile. "Then it doesn't have to be The Wilson's Family Day In but just a mirror occasion. I'm sure if we find the right way to persuade her, she'll agree."
Kian chuckled with a glint in his eyes and cupped her cheeks. "What do you have in mind?"
A sly gaze on Esmé's lips was all the answer she gave him.
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Yihaw!
How's it going, guys?!
There's nothing much going on in this chapter but I love Kian and Esmé's conversations. Do you?
Let me know what you liked about this chapter and of course what you didn't particularly like too? 💭
Till next time!💕