Shards of Memory [English - Under Revision]

Chapter 22: Soaked

Skylane

"I'm at my limit, Sky," Blaise murmured, breath coming fast. His ears were red, his arms wrapped tightly around me.

I didn't say anything. I just let him hold me. My face burned knowing people nearby were whispering and giggling at how we must look. PDA, probably. Embarrassing. But my heart... it didn't want to move.

Still, after a while, my legs began to feel numb. I tapped his shoulder gently. "Uh, Blaise... if you don't let go, I might start growing roots here."

He lifted his head and looked at me. God. How can someone that tall, that intimidating to others, suddenly look like a lost little boy? It wasn't fair.

"Let's spoil your sugar bone," I blurted without thinking.

His brows drew together in confusion. Tilted his head, puppy-like. Oh no. Now he was even cuter.

"You said you were at your limit," I explained, cheeks warm. "Something sweet will make you feel better."

He chuckled and loosened his hold, finally standing straight. "What should I do with you? Your innocence is killing me."

My eyes narrowed. "Innocent about what?"

"About men's system." He smirked, maddeningly cryptic.

"What? Don't men feel better after sweets? What are you even talking about?" I muttered, genuinely lost.

He just wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Come on. Where's this shop you were dragging me to?"

I squinted at him. Suspicious. But he was already steering me forward like he hadn't just dropped a mysterious bomb.

We walked side by side toward Magnolia Flavorhouse, a charming restaurant painted in cheerful yellows and blues, buzzing with families and students. I couldn't help noticing the way girls turned their heads as Blaise passed. A couple even whispered, phones half-raised like they were sneaking pictures.

I frowned. He didn't notice—or pretended not to. Unbothered, calm, like he was used to being stared at.

"Wait," I said suddenly, stopping him.

He blinked at me. "What's wrong?"

Instead of answering, I slipped behind him, opened his backpack, and pulled out his towel. Then I stepped in front and gestured. "Head down."

Confused, he obeyed. I dropped the towel on his wet hair and started rubbing, messing it up even more.

"Don't take it off until your hair's dry," I ordered when he tried to lift it.

Something shifted in his gaze—then his mouth curved into a slow smirk. He shrugged and let me fuss.

Sorry girls, I thought smugly, the wet look is for me only today.

Inside Magnolia Flavorhouse, the place was crowded, every table buzzing.

"I heard some girls raving about their ice cream," I told him. "I'll order a Merry-Go-Round sundae with peach iced tea. What about you?"

"I'll just copy you," he admitted, scanning the menu with faint panic.

I pouted. "That's boring! If you order something different, I get to taste yours."

His eyes glinted. "Then why don't you choose for me?"

"Really?" My heart leapt. "But what if you hate what I pick?"

"I won't," he said simply. "I trust your taste."

The wink he threw after that nearly sent me through the floor. I grinned so hard my face hurt.