31.
It was Sunday.
The kind of day where the overcast sky made me crave a cup of warm tea even more.
I had headed to the tea room prepared for another wasted trip, but to my surprise, the place was empty.
“It’s quite quiet, isn’t it? I must be lucky.”
As I was guided to a private room said to have the best view of the outdoors, I whispered this, and Everett replied after a slight delay.
“That’s true. You’re lucky.”
The way he curled his lips into a smile—a beat too late—made him look like a mischievous boy.
He had turned his head to answer, leaving his back against the window where the sunlight shone with particular intensity. When he smiled, it felt as if a halo were cast around him.
Thump-thump.
My heart made its presence known with startling force.
*So suddenly? Heart, please, just be quiet.*
I tensed, terrified that the frantic drumming in my chest might be felt by Everett through our joined hands. Like someone reflexively clutching a wound, I caught my hand just as it moved toward my left side.
*Is this a pledge of allegiance? Stop it!*
Instead, I took deep, secret breaths, struggling to regulate my rhythm.
*Haa, hoo. Haa, hoo.*
Focusing on my breathing, I failed to notice that I hadn’t encountered a single person on the way to the private room. I didn’t realize how eerily quiet it was, as if someone had rented the entire establishment.
Still, thanks to the distraction, I managed to feign a reasonably calm face by the time the waiter opened the door.
“Ms. Diaz.”
Everett gestured for me to enter first.
Acting as if under a spell, I released his hand with as much elegance as I could muster. Everett followed me in like a knight escorting a lady, pulling out my chair in the waiter’s stead.
It was a seat with a sweeping view of the tea room’s famous courtyard.
“Thank you.”
I murmured my gratitude and sat down; Everett offered a light nod before taking the seat opposite me.
He sat with his back to the courtyard window, and—
*Why does the weather have to clear up now?*
As soon as he sat down, the clouds drifted away, revealing the sun that had been hidden all morning. The crisp, early summer light shattered brilliantly upon Everett’s dark hair, tracing the contours of his face as he turned to look out the window.
It was a double-hit combo.
And with a slight delay, an attack even more potent than the first.
Thump-thump-thump.
My heart, which had barely calmed, beat more violently than ever. Heat surged into my face, completely beyond my control.
Unable to contain it, my hand flew to my chest. I could feel my heart pounding against my palm, as if it were trying to break through my ribs.
“Ugh.”
As I groaned and curled inward, a startled Everett moved to my side.
“Are you not feeling well, Ms. Diaz?”
He examined my complexion with concern. I turned my head away, covering my face with my hand.
*Your face… is not good for my heart.*
I couldn’t voice the reason aloud. The fascination of the light still lingered in my eyes like an afterimage, making it impossible to look at him. I buried my face deeper, my palms significantly cooler than my flushed skin.
“I-I suddenly choked on my breath,” I lied, grasping for an excuse.
It was a clumsy explanation, but Everett nodded with a relieved expression.
“Here, have some water.”
He ordered the waiter to bring cold water immediately. Even while the man scurried to the first floor, Everett’s worried gaze never left me. Growing anxious as I remained hunched over, his eyes darted toward the door.
“Should I go down and get the water myself?”
Concerned that my flush was only worsening, he started to rise.
“I’m fine. Truly.”
Embarrassed, I lifted my head and insisted repeatedly, and though he looked reluctant, he stayed put.
“Your face is still red.”
Everett reached out as if to touch my forehead, then hesitated.
“This…”
Startled, he flinched and hid his hand behind his back, as if the gesture could make the moment disappear. He froze for a second, then laughed sheepishly, realizing he’d acted foolishly.
A laugh like the sigh of the wind reached my ears.
*He’s too close.*
He had hurried over, shocked by my physical reaction, and was now standing right beside my chair, his posture lowered to check on me. I felt the fine hairs on my neck stand on end, sensitive to the air in a space so tight that a single movement would have us touching.
It was the closest we had ever been. I couldn’t even breathe deeply, terrified that the sound would seem strange to him.
“A little further back.”
Unable to bear it, I finally asked him to move.
“Hmm, could you?”
My throat felt tight, causing my voice to crack.
“Ah, I apologize.”
He stepped back about a pace, though his gaze and torso remained angled toward me. That distance—neither too close nor too far, yet ready to collapse at any moment—perfectly mirrored our relationship.
I stubbornly ignored his golden eyes, which seemed to want to say more.
*If you do any more than this, my heart will burst.*
Fortunately, the silence didn’t last long.
“Excuse me.”
Right on cue, a polite knock sounded. The door opened, and a waiter entered with a glass of water, a slice of lemon floating inside.
Everett, who had been staring at the door every few seconds, glared at the waiter with undisguised dissatisfaction. He stepped back further, putting more distance between us.
*So, that’s how it is…*
It felt as if we had been doing something we shouldn’t have and were caught in the act. As a high-end tea room, the place was kept cool by magic stones, yet for some reason, the air felt stiflingly warm.
The waiter approached me with a professional smile, handing me the glass.
“Since the sun has come out, I worried the room might grow warm, so I had the temperature adjusted.”
So that was why it had taken so long.
“Thank you.”
I accepted the condensation-covered glass, the ice clinking inside. I had only made an excuse about choking, but I was genuinely thirsty, and the water tasted like nectar. After draining the glass, I felt my mind clear slightly.
With the heat subsiding, I spoke to the waiter.
“I’d like to order.”
Even as I drank, I could feel Everett’s gaze on me. I knew that if I turned to look at him, I would need another glass of water, so I addressed the waiter exclusively, as if ordering tea were a matter of grave importance.
Only then did Everett return to his seat opposite me.
“I will prepare it for you.”
Everett sat down, and the waiter placed the gold-leafed menus before us before departing without a sound. With him gone, nothing remained to block the line of sight between Everett and me.
I studied the menu intently, as if it were a dense textbook from my Academy days. Everett, having checked the menu briefly, waited quietly for me to speak. I lingered over the page until the waiter wore a look of polite confusion, and eventually, I ordered the tea at the very top.
“Make it the same.”
Everett added, as if he had been waiting for my signal.
The waiter collected the menus and left. The sound of the door closing felt like a thunderclap. The time that had felt like an eternity must have been merely a fleeting moment, as the sunlight was still dancing over Everett’s hair.
Unable to bear it, I squeezed my eyes shut and shouted.
“Excuse me! Sir Rohas!”