Chapter 364: What I Mean When I Say It
Malik did not rush her.
That, more than anything else so far, unsettled Karenbana.
He guided her through the building at an unhurried pace, hands loosely folded behind his back, pointing out spaces with the casual fondness of someone showing a favorite city rather than a fortified resort. There were long corridors lined with open archways where ocean light spilled across polished stone; quieter interior halls where the air smelled faintly of cedar and clean water; rooms designed not for luxury alone but for rest, for recovery, for people who had lived sharp lives and needed places where their shoulders could finally drop.
Karenbana noticed everything. The way the floors never echoed too loudly. The way the walls absorbed sound instead of throwing it back. The way every corner felt intentional—like someone had asked, What would a tired person need here? and actually listened to the answer.
"You built this like a sanctuary," she said at last, breaking the comfortable stretch of silence. "Not like a fortress."
Malik glanced back at her with a small smile. "Fortresses are for people who expect to be attacked. Sanctuaries are for people who expect to be healed."
She scoffed lightly, but it didn't have teeth. "That sounds expensive."
"It is," he agreed cheerfully. "But cheaper than rebuilding people from scratch."
They turned down another hall, one that opened toward a wide window overlooking the sea. Malik stopped abruptly, tapping his chin with exaggerated seriousness. He stared at the floor, then at the ceiling, then back at her.
Karenbana crossed her arms. "If you're about to say something ridiculous, I want you to know I'm already prepared to judge you."
He snapped his fingers and pointed at her with sudden certainty. "You need a massage. Then a dip in our spa bath."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Massage done by me," he continued smoothly, unfazed. "Spa bath also with me. Entirely optional. Fully respectful. Completely indulgent."
She tilted her head, pink eyes narrowing. "Are you trying to keep me away from my teammates all day?"
Malik's smile turned knowingly unapologetic. "I am absolutely trying to keep you to myself all day."
"And tonight?" she pressed.
"That," he said lightly, "is up to you."
She opened her mouth to retort—then paused. He hadn't answered the question directly, and worse, she realized she didn't actually mind.
"That wasn't an answer," she said.
"I know," he replied. "But you didn't say no."
She studied him for a long moment, then huffed. "You're infuriating."
"And yet," he said, turning and gesturing down the hall, "you're still walking with me."
She followed.
The changing room he led her to was warm and softly lit, with benches of smooth stone and folded towels stacked like offerings. Karenbana stood alone for a moment after he closed the door, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
Be sensible, she told herself.
This is indulgence. This is strategy. This is not—
She exhaled sharply and shook her head.
She chose a fitted wrap-top that tied at the side and left her back exposed without baring her chest, paired with soft, loose pants she could remove later if she wished. She kept the wig—for now—but loosened it slightly, letting it sit less rigidly, less like armor. When she finally stepped into the massage room, she did so with her chin lifted, spine straight, fully aware of how she looked and how much that mattered to her.
Malik looked up from adjusting the table and smiled in genuine appreciation. "You look incredible," he said. "Comfortable. Confident. Exactly like yourself."
She preened despite herself. "Good. I didn't dress to disappoint."
He patted the table gently. "Lay down when you're ready."
As his hands worked along her shoulders and back—firm, warm, attentive—conversation drifted naturally, as though the tension had loosened along with her muscles.
"You asked earlier about my love life," she said, voice muffled slightly against the padding. "There wasn't much of one. People either wanted the idea of me or didn't want me at all. Too small. Too strange. Too loud. Or… not loud enough."
His hands paused only a fraction. "That's their failure," he said quietly, then resumed. "Not yours."
She smiled faintly. "Your turn."
"I loved," he said simply. "Often. Deeply. Sometimes wisely. Sometimes not. I don't regret any of it."
She snorted. "Figures."
When the massage ended, he helped her up without rushing her, hands steady, presence grounding. Then came the spa.
She chose a deep violet bathing suit, structured and elegant, cut to flatter without inviting commentary. Malik changed with a snap of pink-gold smoke that made her laugh outright.
"That's cheating."
"Magic has its perks," he said brightly.
They slipped into the warm water together, steam curling around them as if snow fell upward softly beyond the open roof.
For a while, they simply soaked.
Then Malik's expression shifted—not darkening, but sharpening, like someone deciding to tell the truth without cushioning it.
"Can I tell you a story?" he asked lightly.
Karenbana leaned back against the stone edge. "If it's about you, I'm listening."
"I'm not from here," he said. "Not truly. I don't have chakra. What I have comes from something else. Magic that feeds on emotion—love and lust, desire, connection. It sustains me. But it can also overwhelm me."
She turned toward him fully now.
"I feel both when I look at you," he continued, unflinching. "The attraction is easy. That part is simple. But the affection—the recognition—that's what matters more. I fall in love easily. That's my flaw."
He moved closer, water rippling gently. His hands came up, stopping just short of her face. "I am greedy for only one thing," he said softly. "Love."
Her breath caught—not because of the words, but because he meant them.
When he asked, quietly, sincerely, "May I steal a kiss?" she had already opened her mouth to answer—
—when the ceiling burst open.
Aya and Risa dropped in with practiced precision, ropes flashing, apologies tumbling from their mouths as they bound Malik with swift efficiency.
"Sorry!"
"Very sorry!"
"Master needs sleep!"
They hauled him upward as he laughed helplessly, calling out, "I'll explain later!"
Then they were gone. The roof sealed. Steam settled.
Karenbana stared at the empty space for a long moment.
Then she laughed—sharp, incredulous, delighted.
"…Of course," she said to no one. "Of course that's how it ends."
She leaned back into the water, heart racing, lips tingling with what hadn't happened.
"Ridiculous man," she murmured. "Absolutely ridiculous."
And yet—she smiled.