Chapter Four: A slow motion
1668 Words
Tori's POV
The next day, just as I was getting home from school, my mom greeted me with a smile that immediately made me suspicious.
"What's with that look?" I asked, kicking off my shoes.
"Oh, nothing," she said in a tone that screamed something. "We're having a guest for dinner tonight."
I squinted. "Guest?"
Before she could answer, the doorbell rang. She practically skipped to open it.
And there he was.
Caius Montclair. In the flesh. Standing at our doorway like a Greek statue that had just been imported into our living room.
"Caius," my mom said, beaming, "welcome! Come in!"
He gave a polite nod and stepped inside. I, on the other hand, stood frozen halfway to the kitchen like I was buffering.
My mom turned to me with a mischievous grin. "Tori, can you show him to the living room while I finish cooking?"
Why me? I thought but nodded stiffly.
"This way," I mumbled, leading him inside.
He followed quietly, his expression unreadable as always. We sat on opposite ends of the couch. The silence between us could've filled a library.
"You have a lot of books," he finally said, glancing at the shelf.
"Oh. Yeah. I like reading," I said, mentally facepalming at how obvious that sounded.
He gave the tiniest nod. "I figured."
I blinked. "You did?"
"You're always holding a book. Even when you're walking."
"Dangerously," I added, half-laughing. "I trip a lot."
He looked at me then—really looked—and said, "I noticed."
Oh no. He saw The Fall.
Before I could melt into the floor, my mom called us to dinner.
Caius was polite, quiet, and surprisingly helpful—offering to set the table, which made my dad grin like he'd just won a son-in-law lottery.
As we ate, my parents kept asking him questions, and he answered each one calmly, always with perfect manners. Meanwhile, I tried not to choke on my food every time our eyes met.
"So, Tori," my dad said with a smirk, "why don't you help Caius with dessert?"
I nearly dropped my spoon. "Wha—I mean... sure."
In the kitchen, I pulled out the cake while Caius stood awkwardly by the counter.
"This is weird, right?" I said under my breath, finally glancing at him.
He shrugged. "I don't mind."
I looked at him, curious. "You're always so quiet... Do you even like talking?"
"Only when there's something worth saying," he replied, his voice low and calm.
"Are you saying I'm not worth talking to?" I teased, raising a brow.
He met my eyes and said, without blinking, "I didn't say that."
I cleared my throat and quickly looked away, suddenly very interested in the cake's frosting. Abort mission. Change topic. Anything but those eyes.
"By the way," I said a little too cheerfully, "where's your mom? She didn't stay for dinner?"
Caius blinked, probably sensing my panic but letting it slide. "She had a meeting. She just dropped me off."
"Oh," I nodded. "She seems... nice. Very elegant. Like, the type who drinks tea with her pinky up and owns tiny dogs in purses."
To my relief, the corner of his mouth twitched—barely, but it was there. "She prefers cats."
"Fancy cats?"
"Persians."
"Called Princess Fluffington?"
His lip definitely twitched that time.
"I'll take that as a yes," I smirked, grabbing the plates for dessert.
The air was still a little awkward, but lighter. Less oh-no-he-heard-my-thoughts and more okay-maybe-I-won't-die-of-embarrassment. We brought the cake back to the table, where my dad immediately declared me a cake-cutting disaster, and Caius, out of nowhere, offered to do it instead—with the precision of a surgeon.
"I feel personally attacked," I said as he handed me the neatest slice I'd ever seen.
"You'll survive," he said simply.
I narrowed my eyes. "I liked you better when you didn't talk."
And for the briefest second, I swear—I saw him smirk.
"Mom, I feel sleepy. I'll go to bed now, okay?" I said, already halfway up the stairs.
"Tori," Mom called, narrowing her eyes. "Don't try to fool me. I know you just want to get back to your room and read those books."
Busted.
I clutched the railing dramatically. "But Mom, tomorrow's the weekend. You said I can read all I want from Friday night to Sunday."
"We still have a guest," she reminded me, glancing toward the living room.
I followed her eyes and, yep—Caius was still sitting there, sipping tea like some kind of royal heir in disguise.
"But... my prince is waiting for me," I murmured dreamily.
My dad burst into laughter from behind his newspaper. "What chapter is he in now? Still rescuing dragons or falling off cliffs?"
"Dad, stop it!" I groaned, my cheeks turning pink.
Caius raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, and I mentally screamed. So much for sneaking away unnoticed.
Later that night, after the dishes were cleared and small talk had exhausted itself, Caius stood near the front door while Mom looked for something in the kitchen. I hovered awkwardly nearby, holding a glass of water and avoiding eye contact.
"Thanks again for dinner," Caius said, his voice calm as always.
I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah... no problem."
There was a moment of silence before he added, casually, "So... your prince is waiting for you?"
I almost choked on my water.
"What?" I squeaked, eyes wide.
He glanced at me sideways, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. "That's what you said earlier. Something about a prince waiting in your room?"
I blinked rapidly. "I was... talking about a book character! A fantasy one! With dragons. And... swords. Definitely not a real person."
"Mm-hmm." He nodded slowly, clearly enjoying this. "Good to know you're in a committed relationship—with a fictional character."
I narrowed my eyes at him, flustered. "Says the guy who acts like he lives in a mysterious vampire mansion."
Caius tilted his head slightly, that rare smirk still on his lips. "Touché."
Caius gave a polite nod to my mom, then glanced back at me one last time. "Goodnight, Tori. Say hi to your prince for me."
I stood there frozen while the door closed behind him.
From the kitchen, my dad snorted. "I like that boy."
It was Sunday. Rose was busy with something that didn't include me, which felt criminal. I sprawled dramatically across the couch; a book flopped over my face like a failed paper mask.
"I'm so bored," I groaned into the universe—or at least into the living room ceiling.
"Dad?" I called, not even bothering to lift the book off my face. "Can we play outside?"
From somewhere in the kitchen, a spoon clinked against a mug.
"What gotten to you?" Dad called from the kitchen.
I sighed deeply, dragging the book off my face. "You know that book I'm reading? It's... really draining."
"If only I'd known it was the ending, I wouldn't have started," I muttered, flipping the cover shut.
"He died in the end," I said, voice barely above a whisper. "I can't believe it... he just died. Don't ever buy me a book like this again. I might die early too."
Just then, someone cleared their throat.
I slowly turned my head toward the sound—and there was Caius, standing quietly in the doorway, arms crossed, looking like he'd just walked out of a storm.
"Is that so?" he said in his usual calm, aloof tone.
I blinked. "Uh... hi, Caius. Didn't hear you come in."
He gave the slightest smirk, like he was amused by my dramatic heartbreak over a book. "I'm sorry for your loss. Maybe next time, pick a story with a happier ending."
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow.
Dad appeared behind Caius, smiling. "You two talking about tragic love stories now? Sounds like my kind of afternoon."
Caius glanced at Dad, then back at me. "I think Tori has plenty of practice with drama already."
I nudged him playfully. "Hey! I'm just emotionally invested, okay?"
Caius gave a rare, genuine smile. "I'll keep that in mind."
At school....
Because Caius was always at our house lately, he was slowly—but surely—learning how to blend in with us. He didn't talk much still, but he didn't flinch away from conversations anymore either. Progress.
I sat on the bench, hugging my water bottle while he played basketball with some classmates. He still had that aloof aura, but at least now he passed the ball instead of freezing like a statue when someone called him.
Rose, of course, was practically buzzing beside me.
"Where is he?" he huffed, scanning the court dramatically. "He said he'd come watch with us. I even put on lip balm for this!"
I chuckled, but before I could tease him, someone suddenly shouted—
"Watch out!"
I turned my head just in time to see the basketball flying straight toward my face like it had a personal vendetta.
I flinched, ready for impact—but it never came.
Instead, a strong hand grabbed me and yanked me to the side. I stumbled into someone's chest, my breath catching.
When I opened my eyes, the world seemed to blur. The sound of sneakers on the court faded, everything slowed down.
He was standing right in front of me. Tall. Sweaty. Literally glowing in the sunlight like someone had turned on a filter. My heart? Beating so loud I was surprised he couldn't hear it echo across the gym.
He looked at me, brows furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"
All I could do was nod like an overcooked noodle.
"Ryan!" someone shouted from the court.
He turned slightly. "Wait," he called back, before helping me sit down again gently.
Then, just like that, he jogged away, back into the game.
But my heart... my heart was still standing there, watching him go.
Ryan.
So that's his name.
..........................................................
Hi-Yu
- Writer
