Carlos gently laid Evelyn on the bed, his gaze softening as he watched her fall asleep again. She looked like a serene baby, tucked in and at peace, and he found himself captivated by the sight. Just as he turned to leave, he caught sight of her hand gripping his shirt, fingers clutching the fabric tightly.
"Don't go," she murmured, still half-asleep.
Carlos hesitated, torn between the desire to leave and the warmth she seemed to exude. "But—" he began, only to be silenced as she opened her eyes and pouted at him. He was taken aback, a mix of confusion and unexpected happiness washing over him. 'Why is she acting like this today? Is she not scared of me anymore? That's… good news somehow,' he mused, trying to process the swirl of feelings that came with it.
She continued to grip him, her hold unwavering. With a resigned sigh, he shed his coat, revealing the crisp white undershirt beneath. He loosened his tie, removed his watch, and slipped off his shoes and socks. Climbing into bed next to her, he tucked the pink duvet around them both.
"Happy?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.
Evelyn's smile was like a sunbeam, and she inched closer, burying her face in his chest. Carlos couldn't help but wonder what had driven this sudden change in her demeanor. It was unlike her, and he questioned if perhaps she was drunk, but she doesn't smell like it. Yet, he couldn't deny the pleasure he derived from this closeness. Her warm breath and gentle rhythm lulled him, and before he knew it, sleep claimed him.
When Evelyn awoke the next morning, the bed beside her was empty. She yawned and then jolted awake as memories flooded back:
"You are such a bad bully, Carlos!"
"You wasted my food."
"Even if you hate me, don't hate my food."
"I'm upset, Carlos."
"You want to abandon me again? Don't go."
Her hands flew to her hair in embarrassment. How could she have been so bold, so confident? Ten bottles of energy drinks? Had those contained alcohol? The thought left her reeling, and she couldn't help but blush at the vivid recollections.
Once dressed, she descended the stairs and spotted Carlos at the dining table, immersed in his laptop. Her heart raced, and she approached cautiously. "G… Good morning," she stammered, her voice hardly above a whisper.
"I told them to microwave the food; it's as good as new, so don't be too mad at me," he replied without glancing up, casually walking toward the dining area.
Evelyn's jaw dropped. Was this her demon husband, or was she hallucinating? How could he be so forgiving about what she'd said? Feeling a rush of embarrassment, she trailed behind him, dragging her feet.
As the maids served breakfast, she focused intently on her food, trying to avoid his gaze. The tousled hair that hung loosely around her face shielded her from his intriguing yet intimidating presence.
Carlos couldn't help but notice the transformation of his once-confident wife from the previous night into a shy, almost timid version of herself. He was annoyed by how her hair kept slipping and brushing against the food.
Finally, unable to take it any longer, he stood up and approached her. "At least, tie your hair back," he said, retrieving a hair tie from his pocket. Evelyn couldn't help but wonder where he had gotten it.
She thought he intended to hand it to her, but her breath caught as he gently gathered her hair, pulling it back and securing it with the band. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and her cheeks flushed crimson.
'Is he flirting with me now? Or perhaps… seducing me?' She couldn't help but feel those butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the realization.