SEBASTIAN’S POV
When Sasha finishes her last bite, I’m watching her reaction, curious and a little nervous, though I’d never admit it to her.
She’s caught me off guard today, looking at me with that mix of surprise and admiration that somehow makes me feel like I’m the one she’s discovered all over again.
“Sebastian, I didn’t know you had this in you,” she says, leaning back in her seat, her gaze searching mine.
“First that little diner date, and now this. I didn’t know you could cook like this.”
I can’t resist the smirk that tugs at my lips. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I tell her, keeping my voice low, letting the suggestion hang there.
She raises an eyebrow, her lips curving in a way that’s both amused and challenging. “Oh? And what other hidden skills do you have up your sleeve?”
Now, she should know better than to challenge me. The thrill of it surges through me, and I’m already out of my chair and rounding the table before she has a chance to react.
With one swift movement, I bend down and scoop her into my arms. Sasha’s breath catches, her eyes widening. She squirms, but I only hold her tighter, enjoying her surprise.
“Sebastian!” she squeaks, a laugh escaping her as she clutches at my shoulders. “Put me down!”
I shake my head, my smirk growing as I adjust my hold on her. “You wanted to know about my skills, and I’d rather show than tell,” I say, and I mean it.
There’s so much more I want to share with her, more than just the adrenaline-ridden parts of my life. I want her to feel the weight of every small, ordinary part of me, too.
Carrying her down the hallway, I feel her fidgeting, but I keep my grip steady, her warmth pressed close against me.
Every time she tries to wriggle free, I just tighten my hold, pretending not to notice her protests, knowing that deep down, she loves the attention.
“Sebastian, seriously,” she huffs, but I can tell she’s enjoying it. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright with excitement. “I can walk, you know.”
“And miss out on the chance to carry you like this? Not a chance.” I reach the bedroom door and kick it open, striding in before setting her down on the bed with a satisfied grin.
Sasha pushes her hair back, pretending to be annoyed, but her laughter betrays her. She stretches out on the bed, tilting her head as she watches me, her expression softening.
“You’re ridiculous,” she says, though there’s nothing but warmth in her tone.
“And you love it,” I reply, leaning against the wall, crossing my arms, and just taking her in.
She’s beautiful, even more so because she doesn’t realise just how much.
She rolls her eyes and sinks back onto the bed, one hand coming up to cover her eyes dramatically.
“I’m sore. And tired,” she groans, feigning exhaustion. “So if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, I don’t have the energy for that right now.”
The sound of her words makes me burst out laughing. She peeks out from behind her hand, glaring at me in mock irritation, which only makes me laugh harder.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Sasha,” I chuckle, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye.
“You asked about my hidden skills, remember? I was just thinking of something entirely different.”
She gives me a sceptical look, her arms crossing over her chest. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”
Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me?”
“Not one bit.” Her lips curve into a teasing grin.
Challenge accepted. I head over to the bathroom, leaving her there, probably wondering what in the world I could be up to.
When I return, I’m holding a small bottle of nail polish in my hand. Her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open slightly as she realises what I’m about to do.
“Sebastian,” she says, her tone filled with incredulity and amusement, “what on earth…?”
I sit down on the edge of the bed and take her hand in mine, resting it on my knee.
“Stay still,” I say, and I’m suddenly aware of the softness of her hand in mine, the trust in her eyes.
“You paint nails?” she asks, her voice a mix of disbelief and admiration.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I remind her, my tone soft.
For a moment, she’s quiet, just watching as I unscrew the cap and carefully dip the brush in the nail polish.
Her fingers are so delicate, and I focus on applying the polish with precision, not wanting to mess it up. It’s something I picked up years ago, an old skill from back when I’d do anything to keep my little sister entertained.
She loved it, and thought I was the best nail artist in the world.
As I move from one nail to the next, Sasha’s gaze remains fixed on me. Her fingers twitch slightly, and I glance up to find her watching me with an expression that I can’t quite read.
It’s something vulnerable, something raw, and it takes me a moment to realise just how much it means to her that I’m doing this.
“Sebastian,” she whispers, her voice soft and almost reverent, “thank you.”
I smile, brushing my thumb gently over the back of her hand. “You’re welcome.”
We sit there in comfortable silence as I finish painting her nails, each stroke bringing a surprising sense of peace.
When I’m done, I blow lightly on her fingers to help them dry, and she laughs softly, the sound warming me more than I’d like to admit.
“I never would’ve guessed this about you,”
she says, her eyes shining with a mixture of amusement and something softer.
“There’s a lot you still don’t know,” I reply, my voice low.