Elara’s POV
“Get dressed, it’s the weekend. We could do something fun,” Alric said, flopping onto the bed I’d just made.
I breathed out, forcing the anger down. He’s just a guest. Treat him like one. I repeated it until the words felt thin. Still, I went along.
“I don’t want to go out. We only go out if it’s important for the media,” I snapped, already thinking of the night shift and bills. Then I buried myself in work.
After several minutes had gone by, I was finally done scrubbing on the windows, mopping and washing nonstop. The moment my back was about to collide with the bed the aroma of dumplings and hotpot smelt like fins up my nostrils.
“Alric…” I called, walking toward the kitchen.
He stood shirtless at the stove, he looked huge in the small space. Even cooking, he looked car
