Petal’s POV
The soft clinking of silverware and the gentle hum of voices around me faded into the background as Sebastian's words reached my ears. "Your mom is asking you to go downstairs, come, let’s go." His voice was smooth, almost commanding, yet it held a warmth that seemed to envelop me. I nodded, still trying to gather my thoughts from our earlier conversation, and followed him down the stairs.
As we walked through the corridor, I was lost in the moment, thinking about how everything felt so surreal. I was still getting used to the idea of Sebastian being in our home, sitting with us, and acting like he belonged here. The only thing that brought me back to reality was a sudden, sharp bump to my head.
It wasn’t a wall, as I initially thought, but rather Sebastian’s broad back. He had abruptly stopped walking, causing me to crash into him. My breath caught in my throat, and I quickly took a step back, trying to regain my composure.
Sebastian turned to face me, his expression unreadable at first, but then a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You’re looking beautiful," he said, his voice low and sincere.
I blinked, unable to fully process what he had said. For a moment, I stood there, frozen, as his words hung in the air. "Oh," was all I managed to say, my mind slowly catching up to what had just happened. The realization hit me like a wave, and I could feel my cheeks growing hot, a flush spreading across my face. I was beet red.
I quickly glanced upwards, trying to hide the heat flooding my face. I wasn’t sure how to respond to him. Sebastian was waiting, his gaze fixed on me, a quiet expectation in his eyes. I stammered slightly, my voice barely a whisper, "Thank you."
It was a simple response, but it felt like so much more. He didn’t say anything more, but his smile widened just a bit before he turned and resumed walking down the stairs. I followed him, trying to shake off the feeling of his eyes on me. My heart was still racing, and I couldn’t understand why his compliment had affected me so much. But I let it go, choosing not to dwell on it as we continued toward the dining room.
When we reached the dining table, I felt a sense of pride. The table was beautifully set, the dishes neatly arranged, and the aroma of the food filled the room. It was clear that my mom and I had put in a lot of effort, but I couldn’t help feeling a little proud of myself. The meal was something special. I had spent hours helping my mom prepare it, and now it was finally ready for everyone to enjoy.
We all took our seats. My dad sat at the head of the table, as usual, his presence commanding yet comforting. He was a man of few words, but his approval meant everything to me. On his right side sat my mother, and on the opposite side of me and my mom sat Sebastian. The way he seemed to settle into his seat made me more aware of how different he was. He was so out of place in this intimate family setting, yet somehow, he fit.
I could see the spread laid out before us—pasta, chicken lasagna, chicken curry, and a bottle of wine brought by my uncle. For dessert, there were Tiramisu and chocolate lava cake. It was all so deliciously overwhelming, and I couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious about how everything looked. I wasn’t a fan of wine or any other drinks, but I tried to focus on the food instead.
As we began eating, Sebastian took a moment to praise the cooking, which made my mother beam with pride. "Petal helped me with the cooking," she said, a touch of pride in her voice. "She even prepared the cheese pasta."
I couldn’t help but smile at my mom’s praise, and I glanced up to see Sebastian looking at me. "It’s delicious," he said, his voice deep and sincere. His eyes met mine, and I felt a small flutter in my chest.
I returned to my plate, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through me at his words. It was just a compliment, but somehow, it meant so much more when it came from him. As I continued eating, I noticed that there was something in his gaze, something I couldn’t quite decipher.
Every now and then, I would glance up, and each time I did, I found Sebastian’s eyes on me. It wasn’t just casual glances; no, his gaze was intense, focused. It made me feel a little self-conscious, like he could see right through me. But I didn’t want to think too much about it. Instead, I focused on my food, trying to push the nagging feeling away.
After dinner, I excused myself from the table, feeling a little overwhelmed. I gathered my plate and made my way to the kitchen to wash it. The familiar sounds of the sink running and the clinking of dishes helped calm my nerves. I was used to the quiet of the kitchen, the solitude that it provided. It was my space, my place of comfort.
As I stood there, scrubbing the plate, I felt a sudden presence behind me. My heart skipped a beat, and I froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. The air around me seemed to shift, and I knew immediately that it was Sebastian.
I didn’t turn around, but I could feel his gaze on me. His presence was undeniable, and it was almost as if he was waiting for something. I continued washing the plate, trying to steady my breath.
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