"You are anything but boring. If you were, would so many women be practically tripping over themselves to marry you?" Thalassa pouted, visibly upset.

Lysander glanced at her with his deep-set eyes, pulling her slender body closer into his embrace while his other hand affectionately ruffled her hair. "Oh? Someone's jealous?" Thalassa attempted to dodge his hand, still sulking. "Jealous? Who's jealous?"

She wouldn't admit it.

"Why do I sense a whiff of sour grapes?" Lysander teased her with his rich, indulgent voice.

Thalassa, a bit miffed, lightly punched Lysander's chest. "But I'm speaking the truth! If I hadn't shown up at that wedding, you'd be married to Rosalind by now, and I'd be out of the picture." "Still hung up on Rosalind, huh?" Lysander's voice was silky smooth as he caught her hand and kissed it again, his lips warm and soothing.

Thalassa wasn't truly mad at Lysander. His hugs, kisses, and comforting words quickly turned her insides to mush.

She looked up at Lysander, letting him hold her hand, and murmured with a slight pout, "Shouldn't I be bothered?"

She didn't realize how much she resembled a petulant child in front of Lysander at that moment.

Over the years, she had been strong and independent, always calm and collected. Once someone gets used to being independent, they often forget how to be affectionate.

But with Lysander, she naturally found herself being coquettish.

he might appear to the outside world, in front of Thalassa, he was as warm as the sun, melting all the cold inside her. "Of course, you can be bothered. The more you are, the happier

happy about this?"

means you care about me,"

a beat,

whether

cared made

all the bitterness and

about the

long as Lysander cared about her now, that

their youth? She

wasn't

So why should she?

With her heart unburdened,

leaned into Lysander's

chest, nuzzling closer to

affectionately.

like a kitten snuggling into

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