Chapter 67 A Glimpse of Kindness
Ariana’s POVE
Out of the blue, I found myself haunted by a childhood fear of thunderstorms. I remembered one frightful night when. Abraham wasn’t home, and a thunderstorm roared through, leaving me cowering at the foot of the bed, tears streaming down my face.
Suddenly. Stefan swung my door open, his voice icy as he said, “Come sleep with me tonight.”
That’s why, despite his usual disdain for me, I always found myself drawn to him. I cherished those rare moments when he showed kindness.
He had been kind to me, at least once. But now, I was ready to free both him and myself.
“Sir, you’re ba-”
Angela’s voice cut through the tense air. Stefan, visibly annoyed, released me, changed his shoes with an air of formality, and marched upstairs.
Angela’s face was ghostly white. “Miss Sutton… I’m sorry
it wasn’t intentional.”
I offered her a reassuring smile. “It’s alright. He’s had too much to drink. You better get some sleep–it’s late.
While ascending the stairs, Stefan’s door caught my eye, slightly ajar. Intent on closing it, a thunderous roar halted me mid- reach my heart skipping a beat. Realization dawned; Stefan’s request wasn’t born of desire but of knowledge–a storm was on
its way.
Confirming his inebriation, yet not to oblivion, how else would he recall my phobia of storms? It seemed an instinctive protective gesture, muddled by spirits.
Softly, I shut his door and retreated, the distant rumbles of thunder coaxing me into a reflective state.
Gone were the days of crying at the foot of a bed, yet sleep still eluded me.
The thunder intermittently boomed for over an hour before the rain began to trickle down. But the thunder continued to echo now and then. Plagued by severe insomnia, I managed to find some earplugs and finally drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, the chirping of birds woke me, my earplugs had vanished.
Swallows danced near the caves, their new nests a springtime endeavor. Such sights were scarce in the city, a nostalgic echo from my small–town youth.
Post–storm, the air was crisp, the sky clear. I stretched awake, only to find my blanket had strayed. Blinking away sleep, a shocking sight caught my eye…
Suppressing a yawn, I stared bewildered at Stefan, who was inexplicably sleeping beside me.
Though inebriated, he had managed a shower, his scent a faint reminder of cleanliness. Yet his attire consisted solely of his undergarments.
Noticing he remained asleep, I draped the blanket over him and stealthily exited the bed.
My foot, unfortunately, found the bedside table, eliciting a thud and a sharp twinge of pain.
Stefan’s eyes flickered open, confusion and irritation mingling as he looked at me. “Why are you in my room!”
I adjusted the photo frame on the table to face him, my tone flat. “This is my room. Perhaps you should figure out why you barged in here and gave me a scare.”
Realizing his scant attire, he recoiled, then defensively muttered, “I mistook this for the bathroom. Got a problem with that?”
Iarched an eyebrow, delivering the final blow. “Your room has its own bathroom. What brought you out here?”
