The Watchful Eyes
701 Words
CHAPTER 4 — THE WATCHFUL EYES
Evening settled over Paris like a velvet curtain sprinkled with golden stars. The Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance, sending soft flashes across the hotel windows.
Hannah stood at the balcony railing of the Lancaster suite, hugging her sweater closer around her. Her family was inside—Joyce scrolling on her phone, her mother correcting the chef’s menu, her father still reading emails—but Hannah needed air.
Down below, the icy courtyard of Hôtel Lumière Royale glowed beneath warm lamps.
And there he was.
Eric.
He stood beside the café’s side entrance, half in shadow, speaking quietly to Damien. His posture was calm but purposeful, like someone trying to blend into the darkness. His breath formed pale puffs of fog in the cold air.
Hannah wasn’t sure how long she stared before he seemed to sense her gaze.
He looked up.
Their eyes connected across four floors of space.
But he looked away quickly, almost sharply, as if doing anything else would be dangerous.
Hannah exhaled softly.
She didn’t know why she cared.
She didn’t know why her chest felt tight.
She didn’t know why her heart reacted like this whenever she saw him.
But she did know one thing:
She wanted to talk to him again.
She wanted to understand what she saw in his eyes.
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DOWN IN THE COURTYARD
Eric didn’t dare look up again.
He could still feel her gaze like a warm flame burning against his skin.
“Yo, why are you tense suddenly?” Damien asked.
“I’m fine,” Eric muttered.
But he wasn’t.
He had been trained to notice shadows, routes, blind spots—everything.
Not emotions.
Not hearts.
Not a girl with eyes too soft and too sincere.
He forced himself to breathe evenly.
“She’s watching you,” Damien whispered with a grin.
Eric froze. “Who?”
“The Lancaster girl. The older one.”
Eric’s jaw clenched. “Doesn’t matter.”
Damien nudged him. “Dude… it kinda does. She keeps glancing at you.”
Eric turned away. “I can’t get involved.”
Damien raised a brow. “Why? She’s clearly into you.”
Eric closed his eyes briefly.
If only Damien knew.
If only anyone knew.
He had a mission. And that mission didn’t allow feelings.
He wasn’t supposed to care about Hannah Lancaster.
He wasn’t supposed to feel anything when she smiled.
He wasn’t supposed to want her to look at him again.
But he did.
And that was dangerous.
Very dangerous.
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CHAPTER 5 — COLLISION OF PATHS
The next morning, the hotel buzzed with Christmas energy. Staff prepared wreaths and garlands; guests in fur coats sipped hot chocolate by the fireplace.
Hannah wandered down to the café, telling her family she wanted a simple breakfast.
Joyce raised a brow. “The café? Really?”
Hannah shrugged casually. “I wanted to read somewhere warm.”
Joyce smirked. “Uh-huh. Warm.”
But Hannah ignored her sister and stepped into the café, her heart beating unreasonably fast.
Eric was there.
He stood behind the counter, arranging cups. His hair was slightly messy, as if he’d rushed through the morning. He looked exhausted. But when he saw Hannah, something flickered in his eyes—like recognition fighting against fear.
She approached the counter.
“Good morning,” she said softly.
Eric swallowed. “Good morning.”
She hesitated. Then—“Can I sit here for a bit? Or is it a bad time?”
He looked at her for a moment, as if trying to decide something important.
Then he nodded. “You can sit. It’s not busy yet.”
She smiled and took a seat near the counter.
He brought her a cup of hot chocolate without her asking.
“You looked like someone who’d like this,” he said.
“Do I?” she asked, amused.
“Yes,” he replied simply.
Their eyes held—warm, intense, a little confused on both sides.
And for the first time since coming to Paris…
Hannah felt seen.
Not as a Lancaster.
Not as the daughter of wealth.
Not as the heiress with expectations.
Just… as herself.
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- Writer
