Fake Date, Real Fate-Chapter 294: Foreshadowing

The man──I mean Adrien had cleaned himself up now.

The medic finished taking my vitals, offered me a sympathetic smile, and said, "It’s just motion sickness, ma’am. And... you really shouldn’t ride coasters on a heavy meal."

Aria coughed loudly. "She ate like a lumberjack on death row. So yes, that tracks."

I glared at her.

The medic scribbled something on a tablet and added, "A little rest and water will help. Try not to run around too much."

Run.

I froze.

Because yes—that was exactly what I’d been preparing to do.

The second the woman stepped out, I immediately tried to stand, because of course I did.

I hopped off the medical bed, aimed for the door like a determined pigeon

Adrien’s hand landed on my shoulder like gravity itself. "Sit."

"I’m fine," I muttered, squirming. "I can walk. I can go home. I can disappear into a cave and never show my face again."

Adrien’s grip didn’t loosen. His thumb brushed the ridge of my collarbone—accidental? Deliberate?—and my entire nervous system short-circuited.

"You’re not fine," he said, voice low. "You’re swaying."

I wasn’t swaying.

Okay, I was maybe swaying a little.

Aria thrust a juice box at me like a peace offering. "Hydrate or diedrate, babe."

I snatched it, stabbed the straw in with unnecessary force, and took a defiant sip.

Then immediately gagged.

"What is this?" I wheezed. "Battery acid?"

Aria checked the label. "Kale-cayenne-kombucha detox blend."

"WHY."

"Because the universe is punishing you for something," Cameron said, tapping away on his phone. "Possibly for projectile vomiting on a man worth approximately—"

Adrien’s glare could have melted steel.

Cameron coughed. "A very charitable stranger."

I groaned, flopping back against the pillow—only to realize too late that Adrien’s arm was still braced behind me. His forearm pressed warm and solid against my spine, and oh God, was he breathing like that on purpose? Slow, steady, like he was trying to hypnotize my pulse into calming down?

It was working.

I hated it.

"You," I announced, pointing at him, "are freakishly good at this whole ’stoic caretaker’ thing. What are you? A secret paramedic? A vampire?"

A vampire?

The word hung between us like a dare.

Adrien’s expression didn’t flicker. But his fingers—those long, unfairly elegant fingers—twitched minutely against my back.

Then, slow as a predator deciding whether to pounce, his mouth curved. Just a fraction.

"Would it scare you if I said yes?"

My lungs forgot how to function.

Aria, instead of helping me, immediately hooked her arm through Cameron’s and started dragging him toward the door.

"WE ARE LEAVING YOU TWO ALONE," she announced like she was the Fairy Godmother of Bad Decisions. "FOR... MEDICAL PRIVACY."

Cameron lifted his phone. "But I haven’t gotten a picture of her almost—"

Aria snatched the phone out of his hand and shoved him outside.

I sat up immediately. Why are they leaving? Was my friend bribed so i can be kidnapped?

No, she wouldn’t do that.

Aria isn’t someone that would sell me out to a man who might—or might not— no, don’t let me think too much of it.

First things first: let me check for what I can use to defend myself in case he tries to harm me or do anything funny although my spirit feels safe with him.

The room quieted the second the door shut behind Aria and Cameron.

And suddenly I was alone.

Alone with this weird, too-calm Adrien man.

Finally still.

Unfortunately, my brain did NOT get the memo, because the second silence settled, every noise inside me doubled.

My heartbeat.

My breathing.

His breathing.

The warmth of him still lingering in my skin like a handprint.

I kept my eyes trained on the floor because looking at him felt... dangerous. Like eye contact might detonate something.

And the sound of my soul trying to escape my body.

I exhaled shakily and finally—finally—looked at him.

Really looked at him.

Adrien crouched in front of me, slow, controlled, lowering himself to my level like he was approaching a wild animal. His eyes swept over my face, checking, assessing, and steadying. His hand rested beside my knee, not touching, but close enough that I could feel the heat of him.

"Isabella," he said softly. "Look at me."

I didn’t want to.

So of course I did.

And the moment my eyes met his, something inside my mind—

jumped.

Like a spark arcing across a wire.

His face.

That voice.

That nearness.

It hit something deep, deep inside me—something I didn’t even know was there until it lit up like a fuse.

He touched my knee then, slow, gentle, steady.

"Princess," he murmured, trying to get my focus. "You need to breathe."

Princess.

PRINCESS.

I blinked hard.

Because suddenly—like someone pressed play on a very old tape—something flickered in my mind.

A car.

Summer air.

A food truck.

Bright pink cotton candy.

A scowl that somehow felt... fond.

A laugh that felt like home.

A voice.

Deep. Warm. Teasing. Exasperated.

Princess... that’s street food. You want to eat something made by a guy with no gloves?

I jerked.

Physically jerked.

My hand flew to my mouth as my lungs stalled.

What—

What was that?

What WAS that?

It felt real.

Too real.

Like a memory someone had slammed into my skull.

I stared at Adrien, who was still crouched in front of me whose voice sounded almost...exactly like—

Exactly like—

Like the figure in that memory.

Memory?

Hallucination?

A past life?

Was I concussed? Was this the real symptom the medic should’ve warned me about?

Or did I just—

...imagine that?

Adrien’s gaze remained steady, his thumb still tracing circles on my knee. He didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch at my sudden, violent reaction. He just watched me, his expression unreadable, yet holding a deep stillness that felt like an anchor.

"Isabella," he repeated, his voice softer this time, like a balm on raw nerves. "Are you alright?"

My mind was a battlefield. Every instinct screamed that I was anything but alright. That this man, Adrien, was somehow linked to a fragment of a memory I’d buried so deep I didn’t know it existed. A memory that felt both terrifying and achingly familiar.

"I..." My voice cracked. "...I think I—heard something."

His brows drew together. "Heard what?"

"I... I don’t know."

I pressed a hand to my forehead.

"It felt like... a conversation. Like déjà vu but—deeper. I saw—no, I heard—"

Street lights.

Cotton candy.

A man sighing like my chaos was his problem.

A low voice saying Princess like it was a habit.

My eyes snapped to him.

I swallowed hard. "Did you—did I—have we..."

Oh God, words were failing. Me. A woman who could verbally destroy a courtroom.

"What?" he asked softly.

I shook my head, eyes darting away. "Nothing. I— it was probably nothing. Just... dizziness."

Dizziness.

Yes. Let’s blame the brain.

Because the memory didn’t feel invented.

It felt familiar. Warm. Like a moment I lived.

With a figure that his voice.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

He leaned forward slightly, voice low enough that it brushed over my skin.

"Isabella... look at me."

I did.

And the jolt came again.

"Talk to me. What did you hear?"

"Princess." My voice came out thin. "You—you called me that. Have... have we met before?"

His jaw tightened.

Something flickered in his eyes—like... a bit of pain or, or hope, or maybe its terror?

I couldn’t tell.

He didn’t answer.

And that silence made my pulse slam against my ribs.

Because for the first time—

I wasn’t afraid he was a stranger.

I was afraid he wasn’t.

Finally, maybe few seconds or a minutes later.

He spoke, "Maybe it’s a foreshadowing."

"A foreshadowing?"

"Of what?"

His eyes held mine — calm, unreadable, devastating.

"Of what comes next."

I blinked.

My brain sputtered like a dying engine.

"...What?" I squeaked.

He didn’t blink.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t smile like he was joking.

He spoke with the quiet certainty of a man who didn’t chase—he claimed. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"I’m interested in you, Isabella."

My hands flew up, clapping over my mouth so hard it made a soft pop.

This man.

This tall, infuriatingly calm, jaw-carved-by-angels man.

This man who carried me like I weighed nothing, who smelled like expensive sin, who I just threw up on—

IS INTERESTED IN ME?!