Fake Date, Real Fate-Chapter 110: Princess Treatment: Breakfast Edition [III]

Adrien nudged the bedroom door open with his shoulder. The room was cool and dimly lit, curtains drawn partially against the morning sun.

He carried me through the familiar space as if it were perfectly normal to be swept off my feet and into my own bedroom.

"Adrien..." I started to protest, cheeks flushing hot, but he just chuckled, low and knowing.

He reached the side of the bed, kneeling slightly to lower me carefully onto the mattress, making sure my injured ankle didn’t take any weight.

"Don’t worry, princess. I’m not going to take advantage." His thumbs rubbed slow circles over my knees. "Yet."

He leaned down, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that was immediately consuming. It wasn’t the quick, playful kisses from the kitchen. This was a kiss that spoke of banked fires, of patience wearing thin.

His tongue traced my lower lip, a silent question I answered by parting my mouth for him. The kiss deepened, his hand tilting my head just right as my hands found his shoulders, clinging to the soft cotton of his shirt. He tasted like honey and strawberries, and something uniquely Adrien.

The world narrowed to the space between us, the soft press of his body against mine, the warmth blooming in my chest.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic little bird trapped in a cage. Every thought evaporated, replaced by the urgent need for more.

This was it. This was where the hallway journey had been leading. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the quiet of the room. Anticipation coiled low in my gut.

Just as the kiss was spiraling, becoming breathless and demanding, Adrien pulled back.

It wasn’t a complete break, just enough space for air, his forehead still resting against mine. His breathing was a little heavier, and his eyes, when they met mine, were dark and serious.

Then, just as I thought he might lean in again, he straightened up and glanced around the room like he was taking inventory.

"Right," he said, clapping his hands together softly, breaking the spell entirely. "Okay. Bath. Or shower. Whatever’s easier with that ankle. What do you need for your bath? Towels? My help getting in?"

I stared at him, my mind reeling. The sudden shift was like a bucket of cold water. The heat that had been building evaporated, leaving only bewildered confusion. Bath? He was talking about... a bath?

"I... uh..." My voice was a weak croak. "What?"

He tilted his head, a hint of that earlier playfulness returning, though his expression remained practical. "Your bath. Or shower. We gotta get you cleaned up. What do you need me to grab?"

"My bath?" I repeated, the words feeling foreign. My cheeks, which had been burning with anticipation, now burned with sheer embarrassment.

He chuckled softly, a low, knowing sound that made the tips of my ears flush and he leaned down, his face a few inches from mine. "Yeah, buttercup. Your bath."

My eyes darted around the room, anywhere but his face. "I... I thought..." The words were stuck. I couldn’t say it.

"You thought what?" He asked, one eyebrow arched in amusement.

"What I think is none of your business, mister," I huffed, trying to inject some bite into my voice. It was difficult to think straight with him so close.

"Come on, spill. You made that adorable little noise. Can’t leave a man in suspense like that." His hand trailed up my side, fingertips grazing the side of my breast through my shirt. I shivered and squirmed.

"Adrien, behave," I warned, even as my nipples pebbled under his touch. "I thought... I mean... we were..." I trailed off, biting my lip. I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. State the obvious.

"We were what, princess?" He murmured. His lips found my neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin there. I tipped my head back with a soft moan.

His kisses trailed down my neck, sending shivers dancing across my skin. I closed my eyes, breathing him in, the scent of him intoxicating. How could he be kissing me like this one second, making my body hum with need, and then pivot to talking about... baths?

"We were about to... you know. Do it." I finally whispered.

He went still against me, then slowly pulled back to look at me. "Do it?" He asked, voice carefully neutral.

My face felt like it was on fire. I wanted to disappear, the heat of embarrassment hotter than any physical arousal had been just moments before. "Y-you know!" I stammered, looking away again, squeezing my eyes shut. "Make love! That! Do that!"

He let out a soft, low laugh that vibrated through the mattress beneath me. It wasn’t a mocking laugh, but one filled with warmth and... something else I couldn’t quite decipher through the haze of my mortification.

"Ah," he murmured, leaning in close again, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent shivers, different shivers this time, down my spine. "You mean... this?"

His lips hovered just above mine, a breath away. My heart, which had finally started to slow after his initial break, began to hammer against my ribs all over again, this time with a frantic hope. My breath hitched. Yes! This!

But instead of claiming my mouth, he pressed a soft, teasing kiss to the tip of my nose. "Or maybe... this?" His lips briefly brushed my cheekbone. "Or perhaps... this?" A feather-light kiss on my forehead.

Each touch was gentle, playful, a stark contrast to the consuming kiss just moments ago. It was infuriating and utterly charming at the same time.

"Adrien!" I groaned, half in protest, half in laughter. "Stop teasing!"

"Me? Teasing?" He pulled back slightly, a picture of mock innocence, though his eyes were sparkling. "Princess, I am merely clarifying what exactly ’do it’ entails. It’s a rather broad term, wouldn’t you agree? Could mean doing the dishes, doing a crossword puzzle..."

"You know exactly what I mean!" I insisted, pushing playfully at his chest with my good foot.

To my surprise, he threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, Isabella. You are too much sometimes."

I scowled at him. "What’s so funny? I thought... you carried me to my room and then you were kissing me and touching me all over and I thought that meant..."

"I was trying to be romantic, you dimwit," he said, still chuckling. "I brought you up here to help you with your bath, not jump your bones."

"Oh," I said in a small voice. "I just thought..."

"Relax," he said, the corner of his mouth tilting up. "I’m not here to corrupt you in your childhood bedroom."

"You’re wearing my apron and whispering threats," I deadpanned.

"Promises," he said.

I groaned. "Adrien—"

"You should know by now that I like it when you’re flustered," he teased, eyes glinting.

"Adrien..." I mumbled, hiding my face in my hands.

He reached out and gently pulled my hands away from my face. His expression was soft now, the playful teasing balanced by genuine affection. "Hey. Look at me."

I reluctantly opened my eyes.

"I just want to help you," he said, his voice gentle. "Help you get cleaned up and comfortable." He traced the line of my jaw with his thumb. "You think I don’t want... other things? Of course I do." His voice dropped slightly. "But right now, you’re hurt. And my priority is taking care of you."

He stood up again, offering me a hand. "So. Bath? Shower? What’s the plan, princess?"

I swallowed, still feeling incredibly flustered, but also... deeply touched. He was being so careful, so thoughtful. He’d read the situation the whole way, knew exactly how to push my buttons and then suddenly pull back, leaving me breathless and adorable (in his words).

"Okay," I managed, a small, shaky laugh escaping me. "Okay. Bath."

He grinned, that confident, charming grin that always made my stomach flip. "Bath it is. Just tell me what you need me to do." He gestured vaguely. "Towels? Soap? Bubbles?"

"Towels first," I said, feeling a little more grounded now. "And maybe some assistance getting there without putting weight on it."

"They’re... in the dresser. The second drawer down." I continued.

"Consider it done," he said, already heading towards there. "Anything for my favourite patient." He paused, turning back to me with that glint in his eye. "Though, a bubble bath does sound... interesting. Plenty of surface area to work with."

My cheeks flared again, despite myself. I groaned, burying my face in the pillow.

He just laughed, the sound warm and happy, and went to fetch the towels.

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