Worried Possessiveness

The sound of running water was especially clear in the spacious kitchen.

Tap water poured over the empty white porcelain bowl, which had long since been washed spotless. Water splashed everywhere, soaking the edge of Aemeath's apron and the strands of hair hanging in front of her.

But she seemed not to notice. Head bowed, she mechanically, stubbornly repeated the motion of rinsing it.

Lu Yan sat at the dining table, gazing quietly at her back across the spacious marble island.

At that moment, the kitchen was no longer filled with the burnt smell of food, but with a suffocating silence.

Lu Yan could clearly feel his stomach churning. The excessive salt was frantically draining him of water, and the fishy taste of the undercooked fish and the burnt bitterness of the charred ribs made him feel somewhat unwell.

But he did not reach for the glass of water on the table.

He watched Aemeath's back. The girl who was usually so full of energy, who carried herself with such effortless ease, now had her shoulders slightly slumped.

Lu Yan's heart gave a sharp pang, far more intense than his physical discomfort.

He knew the feeling all too well. As someone who deeply lacked a sense of security, he knew just how awful it felt to do your utmost to show your best side to the person you cared about most, only to mess it up.

As a Lahai-Roi, Aemeath was exceptionally smart. Electronic devices were like toys to her, and she could master all kinds of complicated knowledge as soon as she learned it.

She believed that as long as she was perfect enough, A-Yan would never be able to leave her. Yet this most ordinary of meals had stripped away her facade of being capable of anything.

Lu Yan slowly stood, his chair making a faint sound as it scraped across the floor.

He went around the table and walked toward her, step by step.

"Aemeath?" he called her name softly, his voice gentle, as if calling to a frightened kitten, afraid that the slightest increase in volume would scare her away.

Aemeath's body visibly stiffened. But she neither turned around nor stopped what she was doing.

The water continued to run, as though it were the only barrier she could use to conceal the panic in her heart.

Lu Yan came to stand behind her. They were less than half a step apart.

Lu Yan could smell the faint fragrance of shampoo in her hair, mingled with the faint smell of cooking fumes in the kitchen.

It was not a refined scent, but it was full of the smell of home he had longed for day and night over the years.

He gently embraced her from behind, slipping his arms around her sides and drawing her slender, soft waist into his embrace.

His chest pressed against her back, and through the thin fabric, Lu Yan could feel her tremble for an instant when her body touched his.

"What's wrong?" Lu Yan lowered his head, rested his chin gently on her shoulder, and murmured in her ear.

Aemeath finally stopped scrubbing the empty bowl, gripping its rim tightly.

"N-nothing." Aemeath tried to keep her usual sweet, cheerful tone, but the slight tremble at the end of her words gave her away completely.

With a stiff smile, Aemeath said, "I was just thinking, the material this bowl is made of is quite unusual. It's so slippery no matter how much I wash it..."

It was a lie so clumsy it could not have fooled even a child.

Lu Yan did not expose her. He simply tightened his arms around her a little.

Then he freed one hand, reached over her shoulder, and gently took her small hand, which was still under the cold running water.

"The water's too cold." As Lu Yan spoke, he guided her hand to turn off the faucet together.

The sound of running water stopped abruptly.

The kitchen instantly fell into a deathly silence, broken only by their mingled breathing and the occasional birdsong from outside the window.

Without the sound of water to cover it, Aemeath's breathing sounded somewhat heavy.

Aemeath tried to turn her head slightly, hoping to move into a blind spot out of Lu Yan's view, but his other hand had already gently caught her chin, half forcing her to turn her face toward him.

The moment her exquisitely beautiful face turned toward him, Lu Yan's breath caught.

Aemeath's eyes, always bright and sparkling, as though they could see through everything, were now full of tears.

The tears spun in her eyes, on the verge of falling.

The tip of her nose was slightly red, and the corners of her eyes were an even deeper red, showing just how deeply wronged she felt.

Lu Yan felt as though a knife had gouged into his heart.

He had imagined Aemeath in hundreds, thousands of ways: domineering, coquettish, obsessed, yandere, even indifferent.

But he had never imagined that a failed lunch would make her show such a vulnerable expression in his arms.

"Why are you crying...?" Lu Yan's voice grew impossibly soft. He released her chin and gently wiped away the tear about to slip from the corner of her eye with his thumb.

His touch was light. The slight dampness and coolness against his fingertip seemed to carry a searing heat that burned straight into the depths of Lu Yan's soul.

"I'm not crying." Aemeath stubbornly bit her lower lip, trying once again to arm herself with that facade.

"It was when I was cutting onions just now... they stung my eyes."

"Among the vegetables we bought today... there weren't any onions." Lu Yan gently exposed her lie.

Aemeath could no longer keep up the act.

She spun around and buried herself in Lu Yan's arms. Pressing herself tightly against his chest, she reached out and wrapped both arms firmly around his waist.

"Does your stomach hurt?"

Aemeath buried her face against his neck. Her muffled voice came out thick with tears and undisguised heartache and self-reproach.

"I know it tasted awful. Those ribs smelled so sharp that even I couldn't stand them."

"And that fish soup—I secretly tasted a tiny bit when I was serving it. It was so salty it was bitter..." Her voice grew quieter and quieter, and her body trembled slightly in Lu Yan's arms.

"I made a little joke, and you ate all of it. You didn't even frown."

"Why did you eat it?! Are you an idiot, A-Yan?!" Aemeath's voice was thick with tears.

Lu Yan let her vent her emotions in his arms, gently stroking her smooth long hair with one hand and patting her back rhythmically with the other, as if soothing a child who had suffered a terrible injustice.

"My stomach doesn't hurt," Lu Yan said softly. Though the burning sensation in his stomach was still there, his eyes remained clear.

"You're lying!" Aemeath pulled back from the crook of his neck and glared at him with reddened eyes. "I saw it when you took your first bite. Your pupils dilated, and you started chewing more slowly. Your body was clearly resisting those awful flavors! But you forced yourself to swallow it so I wouldn't be upset."

Aemeath's tears welled up again. She reached out and felt around Lu Yan's stomach in a slight panic, her eyes full of deep fear.

"A-Yan... am I really that useless?" she murmured, as if asking Lu Yan and interrogating herself at the same time.

"Did I... disappoint you?" Aemeath clutched the front of Lu Yan's shirt tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white.

Lu Yan continued to soothe her gently. "No, you didn't disappoint me."

"But I can't even make the simplest meal properly."

There was fear in her voice. "Auntie said that if I wanted us to look like a married couple, I had to win your stomach."

"I wanted to make this meal absolutely perfect. I wanted you to remember my flavor. I wanted you to never be able to get used to food from outside again, so you could only depend on me..."