Chapter 4: Under the Same Blanket

The next morning, the message was gone, but Julian was back to his cold, distant self. He left early, leaving Lily to wonder if the rainy night had been a dream. Determined to break through his walls again, she decided to plan a quiet weekend. On Saturday evening, Julian returned at a reasonable hour. He looked exhausted, his tie loosened, his eyes shadowed.

"Julian," Lily called out from the living room. "Come here."

Julian walked in, stopping when he saw the setup. She had set up a movie on the television and placed a large bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

"I have work to finish," Julian said, though his eyes lingered on the cozy setup.

"It's Saturday night," Lily insisted, patting the spot next to her on the couch. "The work will still be there on Monday. Come on. Just one movie."

Julian hesitated, then sighed. He walked to his room and changed. When he returned, Lily's breath caught. He was wearing casual clothes—a soft grey sweater and dark sweatpants. Without the sharp suits, he looked younger, approachable, and incredibly handsome. He sat down on the far end of the couch.

Lily smiled, grabbing the blanket and throwing half of it over his lap. "You have to share the warmth."

As the movie started, they sat in silence. But as the minutes ticked by, the space between them slowly shrank. Lily shifted closer, pretending to reach for the popcorn, until her shoulder was brushing his. Julian didn't move away. Slowly, hesitantly, he raised his arm, resting it on the back of the sofa.

Lily took the invitation. She leaned sideways, resting her head against his chest. Julian's body went rigid. His breath caught in his throat. For a few seconds, he didn't move. Then, with an agonizingly slow movement, he lowered his arm, wrapping it around her shoulder. His fingers gently brushed her arm, his touch so light it was almost a whisper.

"What was your childhood like?" Lily asked softly, her eyes fixed on the screen.

Julian was silent for so long she thought he wouldn't answer.

"Lonely," he said finally. His voice was quiet, stripped of his usual authority. "My father believed that affection made a man weak. After my mother died, he shut down. He expected me to be a machine. I grew up in large, empty rooms, learning how to build walls."

Lily felt a sharp pang of sadness in her chest. She shifted, turning to face him. She reached out and took his hand, wrapping her fingers around his. His hand was large, his skin slightly rough, but he squeezed her hand back, holding it like a lifeline.

"You're not a machine, Julian," she whispered, looking up at him. "You're a human being who deserves to be loved."

Julian looked down at her. The blue light from the television cast soft shadows across his face. His dark eyes were filled with a raw, unspoken emotion that made Lily's heart race. He leaned in slowly, his gaze dropping to her lips. Lily closed her eyes, her heart hammering against her ribs. But instead of kissing her lips, Julian stopped. He pressed a lingering, tender kiss on her forehead. The touch was sweet, protective, and deeply intimate.

"Thank you, Lily," he murmured against her skin.

As he pulled away, his eyes dropped to her lips again, and his hand on her waist tightened, his thumb rubbing small circles against her skin. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but his phone suddenly buzzed on the table. He looked at the screen, and his face instantly paled.