Boyd had lunch ready since noon, but Yasmine had slept like a log, due to the recklessness of his actions the night before and early that morning. He figured it was better to let her wake up naturally than to rouse her and face her wrath. At least that way, the fallout would be less fiery.
When Yasmine emerged, Boyd was plating food at the dining table. He paused at her loose attire but greeted her with a smile that never left his eyes.
She made her way over without a fuss, well-acquainted with Boyd's culinary skills after all these years. Boyd was the quintessential all-rounder. He could hold his own in any high society event or whip up a storm in the kitchen, and while she wasn't sure about his sewing skills, she bet he'd master that too if he wanted.
As she sat, Boyd slid a cushion onto her chair. Yasmine paused, grimacing slightly.
"It'll be more comfortable this way," he said.
She sat down with a dark expression.d2
The table was laid with all her favorites. Picking up a fork, she watched as Boyd adjusted her droopy sleeves before sitting opposite her.
She hid her reaction behind a mouthful of food. Skipping breakfast and burning energy had left her hungrier than usual, and she indulged heartily before slumping onto the couch, lazily watching TV.
Boyd cleaned up and came over with a fruit bowl. "Want to head back to bed and lie down?"
She shot him a glance. "Do I look like a slug?"
He sat next to her, glancing at the TV ads before setting the bowl on the coffee table.
Silence fell between them, broken only by the flickering ads. The atmosphere grew tense. Finally, Yasmine sat upright. "Boyd..."
He offered her a slice of fruit, his voice steady. "Don't say something I don't want to hear, Yasmine. I think I made myself clear last night."
"Boyd, I think you're out of your mind."
He chuckled, accustomed to her blunt words. "What now?"
"I'm not exactly a saint, Boyd. I've got all the vices someone could dislike. Some might even question my morals. So why the hell do you insist on clinging to me even when you're drunk?"
"That's exactly why you should be thankful. Even with all that, I still want you."
Her laugh was tinged with sarcasm. "Getting a bit too bold, aren't you?"
He could tell her stance on the issue wasn't as assertive as he'd anticipated. He swiveled, scooping her up entirely onto his lap. He didn't resist as she pushed against his shoulders with annoyance. "What's gotten into you?"
Boyd's grip tightened on her waist. "How does it feel?"
She felt a tingle on her scalp, not from discomfort but from the brazenness of his question. "You've always been such a hypocrite under that saintly facade."
Boyd just smiled, offering no denial. "It’s already happened. Can't you just make it official?"
"Getting cocky now?"
His gaze fell on her shoulder, where his oversized shirt had slipped, revealing her skin. His eyes darkened, and he leaned in to kiss her shoulder before burying his face in her neck. "Just give me a straight answer. Say I'm officially your boyfriend."
She pushed at his head. "Get lost!"
"If you don't, I'll take it as a yes. You can only agree."
"Shameless," she muttered, but his low laughter suggested he could be even more shameless if she didn't agree.
--
Yasmine never gave a formal response, but ultimately she caved to Boyd's wishes.
Bryson had mixed feelings about Yasmine and Boyd's relationship. He wasn't concerned about Boyd's childhood antics toward Yasmine. Boyd was a kid after all. Over the years, he'd come to see Boyd's genuine affection and ability.
What he was concerned about was whether, in the end, her mother, who was thousands of miles away, would approve, given her true identity.
He couldn't dictate that. As Yasmine's guardian, he believed she deserved the same experiences as any other person her age. If this was her choice, his opinion didn't seem to matter much.
--
To Yasmine, accepting Boyd didn't change much. Their private moments were more intimate, but their public relationship had always been like that of a couple for the past three years.
Reality soon corrected her assumption. Boyd became overly affectionate, making her skin crawl with his public displays of hand-holding, shoulder draping, and waist hugging. And he was relentless in seeking moments alone.
Yasmine had reached her limit. He had disregarded her warnings, time and again, and turned them into a pile of worthless words.
They were already quite noticeable to others, but there weren't any highlights to speak of in their past - it wasn't interesting, so people didn't bother to further discuss them.
But now, things had changed. Practically every corner of the school was filled with murmurs about her and Morrison's flirtations.
His persistence wore her down, and she finally let him be. She had seen other couples, openly affectionate, some parading their love as if on display. Maybe this was just how relationships were supposed to be.
Over time, Yasmine had come to realize that her skin had grown a natural layer of armor, metaphorically speaking. The thickening of her metaphorical skin seemed to come with the territory.
On another note, the amount of time she spent alone with Boyd was scarce, to begin with. From the get-go, she understood that Serana was practically Boyd's shadow. Wherever Boyd went, Serana was sure to follow. If Boyd got a slice of pie, Serana was there to claim her share. And if a few extra dishes graced the table, Serana's palate was surely not to be neglected.
Apart from her classes, Yasmine's schedule was pretty open, but not to the extent of moving into Boyd's place for a non-stop party. Originally, she always felt that Bryson occasionally revealed his concerns. She knew Bryson was considering his own position, but fortunately, she had no intention of doing so.
Occasionally, when she couldn't resist Boyd's suggestive hints and didn't want to suppress her own desires for the sake of propriety, an overnight stay became unavoidable.
It was obvious that Serana sometimes made a deliberate effort to give them space. No extra words were exchanged, but her actions clearly communicated her stance.
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