Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Isadora cleared her throat softly and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I'm... feeling much better," she murmured.

Victor didn't say a word. He reached for her other leg and gently placed it across his lap, continuing to massage her calf.

Breaking the silence in the room, Isadora asked in a low voice, "How did you come in so quickly?"

It was almost as if he'd been waiting right outside the door.

"I heard something from the living room," he replied.

She blinked. "Weren't you going to sleep in the guest room?"

Victor's hands never paused. His tone was matter-of-fact. "You never really sleep

well at night. If I'm in the living room, I can hear if you need anything."noveldrama

Isadora bit her lip, a peculiar warmth and ache blossoming in her chest.

After a while, when she thought he'd done enough, she said, "Alright, that's enough. You don't have to keep going."

She started to get out of bed, but Victor gently stopped her. "Where are you going?"

"I just want some water."

"Stay here. I'll get it."

He stood up and left the room.

Moments later, Victor returned, carrying a glass of warm water. He handed it to her without a word.

Isadora took the glass from him and drank, the quiet of the night settling softly around them.

When she finished, she set the glass on the nightstand, only to see Victor bring over a thermos from the living room and place it by the bed. "If you get thirsty later, drink this."

"Now try to get some sleep."

He bent down, tucked the blanket around her, and kissed her gently on the forehead.

As his lips touched her skin, her eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly.

She watched him as he left, closing the door behind him with the lightest click. That tiny sound rippled through her heart like a stone dropped into still water. Had she gone too far? Was she being unfair, holding onto the past and pushing him away like this?

Morning light crept into the room.

Isadora got up, washed, and stepped out of the bedroom to find breakfast already set on the table.

The comforting aroma of a nourishing soup filled the air.

"Come eat," Victor called, pulling out a chair for her.

She walked over and sat down. The soup was golden and creamy, thick and inviting.

She took a spoonful-it was sweet and smooth, the kind that needed at least a couple of hours to make.

Did that mean Victor barely slept last night?

Glancing up, she caught sight of faint shadows under his eyes.

Victor asked, "Any plans today?"

"I need to go into the office."

He nodded. "Alright, I'll drive you."

After breakfast, Victor took the wheel and drove her to The Vaughan Group.

He got out first, circled around to open the passenger door for

one hand resting prote heret

roof.

Isadora stepped out. Victor

the

her hair with a quiet, affe ruffled

smile. Go on inside. Let me know when you're done, and I'll come pick you up."

She hesitated, thinking of how much work he must have himself. “Are you sure it's not too much trouble?"

Victor looked at her, his gaze soft. “It's not. Picking you up is important to me.”

As she was about to step into the

elevator, she turned back. Victor was

still there, leaning casually against

the car with his arms folded, those deep eyes following her every move.

Even with the distance between them, the tenderness-and the quiet devotion-

in his gaze was unmistakable.