Valentine's Hart | SLOW UPDATES

Chapter 24

Zecheriah's POV

"You're beautiful."

I don't know what came to me before uttering those words at her.

She was clearly caught off guard by my comment.

All I know is that the small lit candle flame was reflecting against her skin, giving her an angelic glow more than her usual one.

Her blonde curls were framing her face and the way she was making those sounds of satisfaction with what she was eating.

It did things to me.

It did things to my lower region as much as it's uncomfortable.

Most of all, the light was reflecting in her hazel eyes and making them more golden.

"You're really beautiful, Dahlia," I repeated, her cheeks flushing red.

She cleared her throat, saying her silent gratitude.

I tilted my head, "There's nothing to be shy about it."

Dahlia nodded, "I know. It's just that..." she trailed off. I waited for her to continue as she pushed her food around with her fork. "I am a part of the population that people only compliment me when they want something."

I blew a low whistle, "That's shitty."

Dahlia shook her head, chuckling, "I know. I know. That's why I grew up being wary of other people's compliments. Sometimes, it's really hard to dissect which ones are genuine or not."

She knawed on her lips, which, by the way, I wasn't looking at.

Nope.

Not at all.

"How about you?" Dahlia threw the question back. "I'm sure people are used to calling you hot."

I rose a suggestive brow at her, which made her roll her eyes.

"Oh, come on," she said. "The Alexander Wang was so bummed out of you being a doctor instead of a model."

It was my turn to chuckle as I nodded, "I mean... yeah, sure, if people look past my color."

All of a sudden, Dahlia's smile turned to a frown. I was alerted because she looked pissed, "Did... I say something wrong?"

"No. No," Dahlia shook her head. "I just really can't believe some people are too dumb to let their judgment be clouded by it."

The corners of my lips turned upwards.

Serena was right when she said that she writes for causes.

"You must be really passionate against racial discrimination," I said.

"I'm against all types of discrimination, period," Dahlia replied.

"So, why write?" I changed the topic, not wanting to see the pout on her face.

Dahlia shrugged, "My brothers are around your age, so I was kind of late. And, I wanted to do what they do, so I write in my young years while they do their homework."

I listened to her, seeing her eyes lit up as if her hazel eyes could even be lighter against the warm glow of the candles.

"And, I was always the quiet one in class who liked to read and write anything I could think of. Plus, my face is a giant explosion of freckles, so I get bullied a lot. So, everything that I feel negative about, I write it aside from telling it to my parents and brothers," Dahlia said.

"How old were you when you made the first public write-up that made you hooked up on it?" I genuinely asked, wanting to know more.

Dahlia chuckled, "Believe it or not, I was 7 years old."

My eyes widened in surprise, "Really?"

Dahlia nodded, "It was a popular TV show where kids write to the show, and the hosts read it."

"What you say?"

"So, usually, kids write about what they want to be when they grow up or ask special gifts for them. But I wrote about the bullying I experienced as well as the other kids who get picked on just because we were a little bit different," she smiled softly in remembrance of her story. "I remember writing, 'if only people would understand how our differences make life much warmer because we get to hug more people'."

"You wrote that at 7?!" I silently exclaimed in amazement.

"I did," Dahlia laughed, nodding her head, "I think I'm way better in writing when it comes from my heart rather than a subject being assigned to me, you know?"

I nodded with a smile, knowing how I felt about my patients.

"There's power and magic in writing," Dahlia started. "And as long as I get to have a paper and pen, I'm happy and contented with that. It doesn't matter if I work in Vogue or any fashion magazines or local newspaper, as long as what I write is from my convictions on helping other people have a different perspective about certain things, I'm good."

"No wonder you're great in everything you do," I gave her a soft smile in return, more amazed at her.

"How about you?" Dahlia asked me. "Why a doctor? A cardiologist at that?"