Welcome to the Innocent World

The warm light from my kitchen cast a soft glow over Athlea as she moved about with surprising grace.

~Hummm..umm..hmm ahmm...

She was humming a tune, her face relaxed yet focused, seemingly lost in her own world as she diced vegetables and stirred the bubbling pot on my stove.

I sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the low table, feeling a strange warmth bloom in my chest, watching her cook. Athlea's presence filled my apartment with a soft, flowery scent that felt calming. Her hair looked slightly wet, like she'd taken a shower before coming over, and it shimmered under the light. I hadn't ever imagined a woman, let alone someone like Athlea, cooking in my kitchen.

—As I sat there admiring her, my mind flashed to memories I hadn't thought about in a long time. Back in my old life, I remembered my mother's anger, the way she would throw plates on the table with a cold, bitter expression.

"Eat," she'd snap, shoving the food toward me. "Be grateful you even have food, you worthless child."

My father was alcoholic and used to beat her and she used to take that out on me all the time. It's only because of it that I never talked about the being bullied to my parents as I didn't want to stress them out in anyway.

I shook my head quickly, willing those memories away. This wasn't the time to think about that.

Athlea looked over her shoulder, noticing my abrupt movement. Her gaze softened, and she tilted her head with a gentle smile.

"You okay, Austin?" she asked, her voice carrying a slight tease as if trying to lift my mood.

"Yeah, yeah. It's nothing." I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling slightly embarrassed. I felt so out of place with someone being this kind to me in my own home.

She grinned. "You're funny, Austin," she said, and her voice had a warmth that made me feel lighter.

She didn't look like she was in a hurry to sit at the other side of the table. Instead, she placed herself right next to me, close enough for her shoulder to brush against mine. The scent of her perfume surrounded me, making my pulse quicken.

She brought the food over—steaming chicken soup and a side of rice. The aroma was mouthwatering, and she arranged two plates with the same care she had put into cooking, pouring soup and rice, even filling my glass with water.

"Athlea, you really don't have to do all this by yourself," I said, reaching over to help with the plates.

She held up a finger on my lips to shush me.

"Stop being so modest. I'm here for you tonight. Let me handle it."@@novelbin@@

I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped, and I took a long drink of water to mask my grin. Her kindness was both comforting and strangely disarming.

We started eating, and as I took my first bite, the rich flavors melted in my mouth. She watched my expression closely, and I could see the tension melt from her shoulders as I smiled.

"This is… amazing, Athlea. I don't think I've ever had anything like it," I admitted, savoring each bite.

Her face lit up, a hint of a blush dusting her cheeks. "I was a little worried you wouldn't like it," she murmured, glancing at me shyly.

"No way," I replied, shaking my head as I took another bite. "It's incredible." Her smile grew, and she relaxed, clearly relieved.

As we ate, we fell into a natural rhythm of laughter and conversation. It felt so easy to talk to her like this. The longer we chatted, the more it felt as though we'd known each other for years. I didn't even realize how comfortable we'd become until we were clinking beer glasses together in a light toast.

"To… whatever this is," she laughed, lifting her glass. "And to good food, I guess?" I chuckled, raising my glass in return. "To good company," I replied, and her eyes twinkled as we clinked our glasses.

The evening slipped by, and before we knew it, the clock struck midnight 12.am Athlea seemed surprised by how late it had gotten, and I looked at her with curiosity.

"Your husband didn't call you tonight?" I asked, then immediately regretted it, realizing it might've come off as nosy.

She gave a small, wistful smile, her gaze turning slightly distant.

"I told him I'd be visiting a friend tonight, so he wouldn't call. But… even if I hadn't, he probably wouldn't have minded much." She laughed, but it was tinged with a sadness that made me feel strangely protective of her. "He doesn't even ask who my friends are. Doesn't seem to care where I am or who I'm with."

I felt a surge of irritation on her behalf. "What's wrong with him?" I asked quietly, reaching over without thinking to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

She looked up, caught off guard by the gesture, and the sadness in her eyes softened, replaced by something warmer.

Before I could catch myself, I added, "He's got a woman like you right in front of him and doesn't care? That's his loss."

Her gaze held mine, a flicker of hope mingling with something else.

"Are you sure there aren't any girls waiting to show up at your door, Austin?" she teased, though her voice was soft.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "No one, Athlea. You're the only person here."

A faint smile appeared on her lips, and she murmured,

"I'm glad."

There was a long, quiet pause as we looked at each other. The space between us seemed to vanish, and without meaning to, my hand slid up to her cheek, brushing lightly against her skin.

"Austin…" she whispered, her hand finding its way to the back of my neck, gently pulling me toward her.

Our lips met, the kiss soft but charged with all the words we hadn't said.

This time, there was no awkwardness, no hesitation. Her eyes closed as she melted into the kiss, and I felt her hand grip my shirt, pulling me closer.

My own hands drifted to her waist, pulling her into my lap, her knees resting on either side of me. The world around us seemed to disappear as we kept on kissing and kissing and kissing...