Chapter 399: A Bouquet at Her Door
A Bouquet at Her Door
Her door creaked faintly as Cassidy pushed it ajar, the slight wooden protest cutting through the silence of her room. She hadn’t anticipated anything out of the ordinary—merely a servant bearing tea or maybe one of the maids making rounds. But the instant the opening was wide enough, her eyes went wide with it.
Her breath trapped.
Beyond the doorway was something so opulent that her senses struggled. A bouquet—if she could even call it that—towered high and wide, so broad it appeared to cover the gate completely. Flowers of every color under the sun cascaded together in harmonious chaos: roses like spilled crimson wine, lilies white as first snow, violets dark as night, orchids glowing softly violet-blue, and tiny flowers in colors she had no name for.
The scent swept toward her, gentle but crushing, as if a spring meadow had been packed into one impossible embrace. Its sheer weight blinked her, her eyes as wide as two moons, shining petals and hue as if she gazed into a dream.
Cassidy’s mouth fell open speechlessly. Her heart tripped, then hammered. Who. who would have something like this?
But then, the unthinkable bouquet changed.
The tower of flowers leaned a little, and behind it—a slowly unveiled as if the bouquet itself bent aside—was a face she knew far too well, a face etched in memory and in yearning.
Golden eyes blazed through the flower curtain, bright and unflinching. Jet-black hair flowed down past his shoulders in smooth strands, reflecting the evening light like darkened obsidian. His brows, sharp and expressive, ringed those eyes that always seemed to penetrate her defenses. His cheekbones were high, his jaw clean and powerful, lips curving in a flirtatious, confident smile. Even the gentle brush of his fringe across his forehead seemed carelessly perfect, infuriatingly charming.
"Hey, Cassidy," Leon’s voice rolled smooth and low, carrying both mischief and warmth. "I brought flowers for you. You’re not going to keep me standing outside, are you?"
Her breath caught. The surprise of the vision, the smell of the flowers, the heaviness of his voice—it all came crashing at once. She stood frozen, unable to say a word for an instant too long. His presence always did this to her, drawing her into a tide she could not help but struggle against.
She blinked fiercely, steadying herself, willing her lips to form words. "...Well, come."
The words escaped quietly, almost mindlessly, as if her body spoke before her brain could keep up.
Leon’s smile grew, that lazy self-assurance dancing across his face. He stepped forward, the flowers shifting with him, and Cassidy automatically stepped aside, her hands bumping into the frame as she made room.
The bouquet came first, bringing her room color and scent with it, then the man who had borne it in easy command. The air inhaled and contracted the instant he stepped across her doorstep, as if the very room recognized his presence. With a easy nudge, he pushed the door shut behind him, closing out the world.
He set the bouquet—no, the mountain of flowers—on the table gently. The flowers spilled over the lacquered surface, tossing their colors like a caught garden. Cassidy’s eyes rested on them, still trying to comprehend the sheer magnitude, but she could feel his eyes even more forcefully than the scent of the flowers.
She turned to him.
Leon was already regarding her. His yellow eyes fixed on her face, a soft smile playing about his lips as if her surprise was worth the trouble in itself.
She swallowed. Her hands curled loosely against her skirt, not knowing what to do with them.
And then, suddenly, he shifted.
Leon walked the distance between them, quietly and gradually, step by step, his feet landing softly on the floor, deliberate and unstoppable. Cassidy’s heart raced with each step. She should have spoken—spoken up, asked him why he was there, refused to let him have it without an explanation—but the words would not come.
And then he was standing in front of her.
Before she could move, he had her pulled into his arms. His arms encircled her, tight and wrapping, his chest hard against her cheek.
Her breath stilled again, raspy and shuddering. The brutality of it shocked her back into the moment. "L-Leon... what are you doing?" Her voice shook, soft, half protest, half entreaty.
He bent close, his breath tickling her ear. With a smile she couldn’t see but could hear in every word, he whispered, "What do you think, my love?"
Her heart strained miserably within her chest. She longed to push, to complain—but his hand was already sweeping the wisps of her black hair out of the way, tucking them tenderly behind her ear with that maddening gentleness that left her weak.
She shivered. "I-I know, but... these flowers... all this..."
Leon laughed low, warmly. "Well, I decided I’d stay in your room, so I brought a little bribe."
Cassidy’s head jerked back, eyes widening. "B-Bribe...?" Her cheeks flushed scarlet. His words penetrated deeper than she cared to confess, warming her skin, quickening her heart.
Leon’s smile only increased. "Mhm. A chamber as lovely as yours... it’s not worth it unless you have something to match. And if I wish to be included in it tonight, I can’t arrive bare-handed, can I?"
Her lips quivered into a trembling smile, between embarrassment and wonder. "Oh... but why, Leon?"
He leaned his head, his golden eyes gentle with something that seemed to hurt to look at. His voice lowered, soft but resolute. "Because tomorrow... I must go away from Blackthrone City. Without you. Without anyone."
Cassidy stopped. Her smile dropped. "W-What? Why... why would you..."
Leon let out a deep breath, his face darkening for an instant. He turned away, then back to her, his thumb instinctively stroking down her hip. "I’ll tell you later. Don’t fret. I won’t be away long. I swear."
Her chest hurt. She wished to believe him, but fear and skepticism wove together in her eyes. She hunted his gaze, but before she could push again, his hand slipped lower, hard against her hips, giving a roguish squeeze that took her breath away.
"Hey," he whispered, showing that wicked smile again. "Don’t look at me like that. Tonight, I need you. Heal me all the way, okay?"
Cassidy flushed bright red. Her knees were weakening, her breath shaky. "M-Mhh... Leon, wait... I-I know but... first dinner. Then we... then we can—"
He silenced her with a smile, moving closer until his lips almost touched hers. "For this evening, my love... you shall be my dinner."
And before she could put together another protest, his mouth seized hers.
His lips pressed hard, ravenously, jolting her body. Her eyes flew open, then closed, her hands curling around his shirt as if by reflex as his kiss intensified. The warmth of him flowed through her, taking her breath, her strength, her will.
A sound escaped her throat, half moan, half sigh. Her heart thudded wildly and she thought it would burst.
Leon’s arms closed around her, one hand supporting the nape of her head, the other holding her secure at the waist. His mouth moved over hers with ravenous insistence, and before she knew it, her own had parted, submitting to him, responding to his hunger with quivering need.
The kiss drew out, burning, until thought became a blur. When he finally broke away, their breath was knotted hotly between them, their foreheads touching.
Cassidy’s cheeks flamed, her lips numb. She whispered tremulously, "L-Leon..."
But again, his smile stilled her. He swept her up in his arms, moving toward the bed with ease, as if she was weightless. She wrapped her arms around him involuntarily, her heart torn between fear of tomorrow and the searing desire of tonight.
He put her down, then followed, his body suspended near, his golden eyes blazing hotter against the pale purple light filtering through the window. Outside, the sun had drifted away, leaving a violet-skied twilight streaked with deep indigo. Slowly, night spread its arms thick with promise.
And in that space, when the last thread of sunlight disappeared, Leon’s lips found hers again.
The world outside receded.
Purple sky overhead, fire in their hearts—this night would belong to them, full of the kind of flame no vow, no leaving, could ever smother.