Chapter 369: isiah rath
Eva’s eyes fluttered open, the darkness of the room pressing softly against her.
For a moment, she felt disoriented, her mind sluggish as it adjusted to the stillness.
The cold hardness of the kitchen table she remembered leaning on was gone, replaced by the softness of a familiar mattress and the faint scent that could only belong to one person.
Her breath hitched as she realized where she was—Xylon’s room.
And he was right there, asleep beside her.
She froze, her heart pounding against her ribs like a caged bird. He wasn’t touching her, but he was so close that the space between them felt almost nonexistent.
His head rested near her shoulder, his face peaceful.
’He must have carried me here’, she thought, her mind spinning. She couldn’t remember when she’d fallen asleep in the kitchen, but she must have been so deeply out of it that she hadn’t stirred when he moved her.
Her gaze darted to his face. Even in the faint light filtering through the window, his features were sharp and defined, his lashes dark against his pale skin.
He looked different like this—less distant, less cruel.
’Why did he bring me here? Why didn’t he just leave me in the kitchen?’
Slowly, she turned her head away from him, careful not to disturb his sleep.
She couldn’t let herself think too much about this—not about how intimate people around her might see it to wake up like this, not about how he had chosen to stay so close to her even when he was so mad at her .
She swallowed hard, trying to calm her racing heart. ’It doesn’t mean anything’, she told herself firmly.
She shifted slightly, her body tense as she tried to quell the racing of her heart.
Her eyes were drawn to Xylon’s face again, to the peacefulness etched into his sharp features.
There was something captivating about the way he looked when he was like this—unguarded, vulnerable in a way she rarely saw.
Before she could stop herself, her hand moved on its own, hovering hesitantly in the space between them.
Her fingers brushed the sharp curve of his nose, feather-light, as if afraid to wake him.
She held her breath, half-expecting him to stir, but he didn’t. His breathing remained steady, undisturbed.
Encouraged by his stillness, her fingers drifted downward, tracing the angle of his cheekbone.
His skin was warm under her touch, softer than she had imagined it would be.
Her hand moved lower, hesitating briefly before gliding over the edge of his jaw, then up to the delicate curve of his ear.
She traced its outline, her touch barely a whisper against his skin.
"Sleeping like a kid," she murmured, the words barely audible in the quiet room. She didn’t know if she was speaking to him or herself, but the thought lingered.
Her gaze softened as memories surfaced—images of Xylon as a child, his face peaceful and serene in sleep, just as it was now.
"How things changed," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of sorrow and longing. "How they became so... messy."
A tear slipped down her cheek, but she didn’t bother wiping it away. She simply watched him, her heart aching.
Her voice faltered. "I wish... things could go back to the way they were."
.She sighed softly, her breath barely audible, and decided she needed to turn away—to give herself a moment to collect her tangled thoughts.
Carefully, she shifted her weight, beginning to turn her body toward the door.
But before she could turn fully away, Xylon moved. His hand shot out with a deliberate swiftness, catching her waist and rolling her back to face him effortlessly.
She gasped softly, her wide eyes meeting his. He wasn’t asleep. Those piercing blue eyes, now half-lidded but unmistakably alert, locked onto hers.
"Where do you think you’re going?" he murmured, his voice low, gravelly.
Her breath hitched as she felt the weight of his gaze on her. His hand stayed firm on her waist, holding her in place as though daring her to try again.
"I-I..." she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, her mind scrambling for an explanation.
"You think you can speak to me in my sleep," he continued, his tone laced with an edge of mockery, "and then roll away? Like I wouldn’t notice?"
"I didn’t mean—" she started, but his hand tightened slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to silence her.
"You didn’t mean to what, Eva?" he pressed, his sharp features mere inches from hers. "Wake me up? Stir me? Make me wonder what’s going on in that little head of yours?"
She shook her head, her face burning with embarrassment. "I-I just... I thought you were asleep..I didn’t mean to disturb you," she murmured.
"You didn’t," he said simply.
Eva’s throat tightened. She was keenly aware of how close they were—his face just inches from hers, his scent surrounding her.
"Stay," he said, his voice firm but quiet. It wasn’t a request.
Her heart pounded as she nodded slightly, unable to say anything else.
"I heard you," he said quietly, his voice smooth but cold, sending a chill through her. "When you thought I was asleep."
Eva froze, her mind racing, her eyes widening.
’ What did he hear?’
She didn’t know what to say.
Xylon didn’t give her time to respond.
"I..." She couldn’t finish the sentence and the look in his eyes stopped her. He wasn’t just waiting for an answer—he was demanding one.
"You wish for things that could never happen, Eva," he said, his voice low but unmistakably resolute. "You dream about things going back to the way they were. But that’s not possible anymore. You’re an adult now, and you still cling to that naive illusion."
He traced a finger down her jaw. "You think you can pretend everything is simple. But you’re wrong. It’s never been that simple, and you know it."
Xylon let out a quiet, almost bitter laugh as he pulled back slightly. "Naive little Eva. It’s too late for regrets now."
