Little Valencourt
1088 Words
Aliana’s POV
Alesseo slips away into the crowd, leaving behind only a soft echo of the past.
Before the old ache can settle, a familiar warmth sweeps toward her — Atticus.
His presence is solid, grounding.
He doesn’t hesitate; he pulls her into a hug, arms warm around her waist, chest rising against her cheek.
And God… she melts into it.
For someone with such a loud reputation, Atticus Everheart hugs like someone who wants you safe.
Atticus (quiet, relieved):
“You okay?”
Aliana nods against him.
She’s grateful. Grateful he noticed. Grateful he came. Grateful he cares.
When she pulls back, he looks… calmer.
Like touching her steadied him.
Then he smirks — that playful, reckless spark returning.
Atticus:
“So…”
He tilts his head, pretending to ponder deeply.
“Do I need a nickname for you? Let’s go through ideas…”
He leans closer, lowering his voice.
“Princess?”
Another inch.
“Sweetheart?”
A grin.
“Beautiful?”
"Little Valencourt?"
Aliana bursts into a laugh — soft, genuine — before raising a teasing brow.
Aliana:
“Well, Atticus… you haven’t exactly asked me out on a date.
And I can’t allow my friend to call me such romantic names.”
She shrugs in the most casual I-just-set-you-on-fire way.
He goes very still.
Then very amused.
Atticus steps closer, his breath warm at her ear.
Atticus (low, shamelessly flirting):
“I would love to ask you to be more than my date…
but is that gonna push you away?”
Her heart does a whole acrobatic routine.
She pretends to think, tapping her chin.
Aliana:
“Hmmm… we’ll have to see.”
She gives him the softest smirk.
“Come on. Let’s join my sisters… good friend.”
She walks ahead, fully aware he’s watching her, fully aware she just made him sweat.
Behind her, she hears the soft, disbelieving laugh he only makes around her.
Atticus:
“Game on,” he mutters. “I’ll set up a date. Just watch.”
Aliana hides her smile as she steps toward her sisters — the smile she’ll never admit is because of him.
Atticus loves this side of her.
The mischief. The quiet confidence.
The way she pokes at him, tests him, makes him work for every inch.
And she…
Well, she loves watching him sweat.
It might actually be her favorite hobby.
..
The round table is massive — white linen, crystal glasses, soft lighting.
The perfect setup for chaos.
Atticus pulls out Aliana’s chair for her (because he’s that guy now), and as soon as she sits, the boys pounce.
Soren (grinning):
“Well, well, look who survived her run-in with the Dark Prince of Ballet.”
Beckett adds with theatrical flair:
Beckett:
“Little Valencourt returns. The prodigal dark princess.”
Aliana blinks.
Then lifts an unimpressed eyebrow.
Before she can respond, she quietly pulls a tablet out of her tiny purse and sets it on the table.
The entire table freezes.
Atticus:
“…Where was that even stored?”
Beckett:
“Is your purse a pocket dimension? Is this witchcraft?”
Soren:
“No, no — it’s always the quiet ones. They have portable libraries.”
Arabella is giggling into her wine. Adriana’s shoulders are shaking.
Aliana smiles softly — the kind that warns everyone too late.
Aliana:
“Please. You three carry more chaos in your pockets than I do in my entire bag.”
They all choke on laughter.
Beckett:
“My chaos is organized.”
Aliana:
“You have a taser, three business cards that aren’t yours, and a protein bar from the Jurassic period.”
Soren leans back, hand over his heart.
Soren:
“Destroyed. Absolutely destroyed.”
Aliana turns to him sweetly.
Aliana:
“Don’t worry, Soren. I actually have something for you.”
He brightens.
Soren:
“Oh? For me?”
She slides her tablet to him and taps the screen.
A Pinterest board pops up.
Titled:
“Arabella & Soren: Potentially Chaotic Future Wedding.”
Arabella’s jaw drops. Soren sputters.
Arabella:
“HEY— I had no part in this!”
She points dramatically across the table.
Arabella:
“Those three menaces to society made that.”
The boys look offended.
Beckett:
“It’s called thoughtfulness. You’re welcome.”
Soren (peering at the tablet):
“…Why are there twelve options for matching tattoos?”
Aliana (calmly):
“Beckett said you give off ‘protective bodyguard husband energy.’ So I included ideas.”
Beckett nods proudly.
Beckett:
“Which he does.”
Atticus adds, crossing his arms:
Atticus:
“And I picked the honeymoon locations. Very romantic. Very secluded. Lots of—”
Arabella:
“STOP TALKING.”
The entire table bursts into laughter.
Aliana sits with a faint smile, cheeks warm, but she doesn’t shrink away.
For once, she fits.
For once, she’s not watching from the outside.
And Atticus watches her quietly, no teasing now.
Just admiration.
Because this —
her wit, her soft-voiced savagery, her surprising confidence —
is exactly the part of her he can’t stop falling for.
...
Aliana’s POV — End of the Gala Night
The night was winding down, the last guests drifting out of the ballroom. Aliana had excused herself to the ladies’ lounge for a moment of quiet, catching her breath and scrolling through her phone.
Her sisters’ texts lit up the screen, practically vibrating with excitement:
Arabella: OMG, Ali… I can literally tell how much he cares. Your little smiles, the way he listens… you’re glowing. 💖
Adriana: Sweetheart, even though it’s not official yet, I have a feeling Mom and Dad will want to meet him soon. Just a heads up.
Aliana smiled softly, her chest warm at their observation. She typed back quickly:
Aliana: Thanks, you two. I know. I’m trying not to overthink it…
And then another buzz, familiar and instant. Her heart skipped.
Atticus: Goodnight, little Valencourt…❤️
P.S. Would you like to officially go on a date with me this Saturday?
Her lips curved into a genuine, shy smile. She stared at the text for a long moment, imagining his teasing grin as he sent it, the quiet intensity in his eyes when he really meant something.
She typed back, fingers hovering over the keyboard before sending a short, teasing response:
Aliana: Let’s see if your idea of a “date” can survive me being me… I’ll accept.
Her heart fluttered. She tucked her phone away, excitement simmering beneath the quiet composure she’d been holding all night.
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