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XLIX
Huling Na-update:
2025-01-22 20:06:22
Maya EastWARNING! This is the previous chapter that has been edited.
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His Son, Her Secret CCXXVII : You Talked, I Fell [Pascha]
FlashbackBelva muttered quietly, still covering her face like that might somehow erase everything that happened last night. I was enjoying this moment. It’s not every day I see her like this... vulnerable.Normally, she’s all confidence—her mouth too fast to keep up with, and somehow always ready with a sharp comeback.Now? She was just a girl with leftover eyeliner under her eyes, hair that looked like it lost a fight with a storm, and a face full of misery.I took another sip of coffee. “So, are you planning to stand in the middle of the sidewalk forever or actually gonna get some coffee?”She looked up, staring at the café across the street like she’d just found an oasis in the middle of a desert. “Coffee... God, yes. I need coffee.”I shrugged and started walking toward the café, hearing her dragging steps follow behind me.As soon as we stepped inside, the strong smell of espresso filled the air, mixed with the sound of the coffee grinder and the low conversations of students si
His Son, Her Secret CCXXVI : I Knew You Were Trouble [Pascha]
FlashbackMy SUV pulled into the front parking lot of the Harvard dorms at a speed that was still legal, but fast enough to show that I really wanted them out of the car as soon as possible.Meanwhile, inside the car? Chaos still reigned.Belva and her friends had moved on to another song, an even more intense one.“SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! EVERYBODY!!! ""I'm running out of reasons to stay alive," Ronan muttered, pressing his head against the dashboard.Calvin just stared at the ceiling like a man who had accepted his fate.I hit the brakes firmly, making everyone in the back lurch forward a little. "Okay, done. Out."Belva raised her hands dramatically. "What is this? Why does it feel like we just got deported from heaven?""Heaven?" Ronan squinted at her. "Girl, we just went through hell and back."I twisted in my seat to look straight at Belva. "Listen, I don’t know what’s worse. Your singing or the fact that you slammed your head into my window like a bird hitting glas
His Son, Her Secret CCXXV : Four Voices, One Chaos [Pascha]
Flashback.The Cambridge night sky was lit up with streetlights and neon signs from the clubs lining Harvard Square. A cold wind blew, biting at the skin, but this city never really slept, especially not for students just freed from the pressure of midterms.I stood across the street, hands tucked into the pockets of my leather jacket, watching a group of girls just spill out of one of the busiest clubs in the city. They were laughing, way too loudly for this hour and I immediately knew who the reason was.Belva Moguel.She walked with a wobbly gait, her arm draped around one of her friends’ shoulders, Kyara or aurora or Mikaela...?I didn’t care who was who, while the other two followed behind, just as cheerful. Her long hair was slightly messy, and her cheeks flushed with alcohol. One hand clutched her high heels, which she’d clearly taken off because she couldn’t walk properly anymore.“I swear I can do a cartwheel on this sidewalk!” she suddenly declared, letting go of her friend
His Son, Her Secret CCXXIV : All That and He Still Won’t Row
Lake Zell am See looked like a slice of heaven’s mirror had fallen to earth and never shattered. The water was too still to seem real, reflecting pale blue skies and mountain silhouettes that stood like guardians of another realm. Our little boat rocked gently, creaking every time I—enthusiastic but utterly unskilled—tried to row.Pascha sat reclined at the far end of the boat, his long legs stretched out, one hand resting on the side as if greeting the water. His face tilted to the sky. Eyes closed. His skin looked warmer under the sunlight.I stared at him, annoyed.“Could you at least help row? I’m not an autopilot system.”“Watching you row is way more entertaining than helping,” he replied without opening his eyes.I huffed and rowed again on one side. The boat spun. Again.“We’re not going anywhere,” I said flatly.“But we’re also not sinking. That’s already an achievement.”I stopped. Rested the oar against the side of the boat. My body swayed slightly as the water rocked the w
His Son, Her Secret CCXXIII : Call Me Wild, Feed Me Toast
I knew I was living with a dangerous man when the way he woke me up was by kissing my right cheek, then my temple, then... the corner of my mouth. Slowly. But with intent.And not a romantic kind of intent.More like: “Wake up, lazy bear. The world’s already two laps ahead of your sleep.”I groaned softly, stretching under the white linen blanket that was still cold at the feet. Sunlight crept in through the large glass window, and from a distance, I could hear mountain forest birds screeching like they were rehearsing for a choir. But all of it... was too bright for whatever time it was.“Pascha,” I mumbled hoarsely, “if you kiss me one more time before I’m fully awake, I’m going to bite you. Legally and biologically.”“I’m glad you’re still making threats,” that voice replied, lazy but satisfied. “Because I was starting to think you’d gone into permanent hibernation mode.”I turned my face away from the pillow and looked up halfway. Pascha was already sitting at the edge of the bed,
His Son, Her Secret CCXXII : DNA Rejects All Plans Today [Belva]
We decided to continue our trip to Zell am See, a small town by the lake with a mountain backdrop that looked like it was painted with a heavenly color palette. Pascha said the place was perfect for “either moving on with life or hiding from Interpol, depending on the mood.”I didn’t ask what he meant by that.The air was already starting to warm up even though it was still midday. Summer in Austria has a way of embracing you without really holding you. A light breeze passed through, just enough to carry the scent of pinewood from the upper forest and a hint of smoke from a slow-burning kitchen chimney.We had to pack.Pascha was on the balcony, talking to Rafael on the phone, his voice low but calm, as always. I was inside the room, half-squatting in front of the suitcase, trying to reorganize all the jackets and shoes I’d thrown around carelessly the night before.I had just folded my leather jacket when Pascha’s other phone, the one lying on the wooden console table near the window
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