chapter 20: whispers of Wings

Chéri's smile flickered.

Her hands, which had just moments ago rested so comfortably on the tray she carried, instinctively gripped the handles a little tighter. The ease in her chest suddenly twisted into something unfamiliar—something she didn't quite recognize, yet couldn't ignore.

"Where have you been lost that you forgot us completely?" Arwan spoke in his fatherly tone.

Kenan chuckled, placing his cup down. "You sound like I've vanished for months, Dad."

"Well, you're acting busy… almost like you're trying to impress a woman. Arwan chuckled.

Kenan smirked, his gaze flickering toward Chéri, who was standing still, her body tense in a way she didn't even notice.

"Well, you can say that. I've fallen for someone." He spoke in a soft tone while his gaze was fixed on her.

The air between them stilled.

Chéri's fingers clenched, knuckles whitening against the tray's handles. A strange, unsteady feeling coiled in her stomach—unexpected, uninvited.

Had she heard him wrong? No… she hadn't.

"What? Really?" Arwan sat straight.

"Mhm... and yes, Dad, I'm trying really hard to win over a beautiful flower." His gaze shifted towards the chamomile flowers floating on his tea.

Chéri's breath hitched, a delicate gasp barely escaping her lips.

She felt her chest tighten, not from fear, not from unease, but from something deeper—something that sent a shiver across her skin.

'Was he talking about… me?' Her heart pounded so loudly it roared in her ears, drowning out the rustling leaves and distant chirping of birds.

"What is he saying?" Lareina's voice chimed in, curiosity evident in her tone.

"You were right, Honey" Arwan chuckled. "There's a reason behind all those flowers and plants."

Kenan sipped his tea leisurely, as if the conversation wasn't sending Chéri into a whirlwind of emotions.

"Alright then, bring her home fast. We're eager to have our grandchildren."

Kenan choked. His hand instinctively flew to his throat, coughing violently.

Chéri's eyes widened. she rushed forward, her gaze filled with concern as she quickly set the tray down.

"D-Dad!" Kenan wheezed, still coughing. "For God's sake!"

"What? Come on, you're not a teenager—you're a grown man in your late twenties!"

His ears burned red.

Chéri, still watching him anxiously, quickly poured a glass of water and handed it to him. "Have some water."

Arwan's booming laughter filled the speaker, while Kenan was still coughing.

"Looks like I called at the wrong time. I'll call again later." With that, Arwan ended the call.

"Dad, wait—Hello?" Kenan frowned, pulling the phone away to check the screen, but the call already ended.

Chéri hesitated, studying his expression. "Is everything okay?"

Kenan cleared his throat, nodding slightly, but refused to meet her eyes. He looked away, as if suddenly uncomfortable. But she wasn't convinced.

"What did he say?" she asked again, more insistently.

Kenan rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling. 'Dad is so shameless.'

"Kenan?" Her voice was soft, laced with concern.

His eyes snapped to hers.

Something about the way she said his name—so gently, so naturally—sent a wave of something indescribable through him.

"Are you okay?" she repeated, searching his face for an answer.

For a moment, he just stared at her. And then—

Without a word, he reached for her hand. The moment his fingers brushed against hers, she stiffened.

Before she could react, he guided her palm to his chest. Right over his heart.

Chéri sucked in a sharp breath.

Her fingers twitched against the fabric of his shirt. Beneath her palm—his heart was pounding. Wild, erratic, unsteady.

It wasn't calm. It wasn't composed. It was a storm, crashing violently against the inside of his ribs. She could feel it. The raw, undeniable proof of something real. The realization sent a shiver down her spine.

Kenan exhaled shakily.

"This…" his voice was hushed, as if afraid to break the fragile silence between them, "this is how crazily my heart beats when you say my name."

Chéri's breath caught.

She felt frozen. The warmth of his skin, the heavy throb of his heartbeat beneath her palm—it was overwhelming.

Suddenly, it was too much. She yanked her hand away, pressing it against her chest, as if trying to steady her own erratic heartbeat.

Kenan exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at her again.

"Charlotte… I—" He paused, took a deep breath. His fingers flexed slightly, as if debating something. And then, slowly, he extended both hands toward her.

Empty. Waiting.

A silent request.

Her stomach twisted. She stared at his open palms.

Something about the sight of them—so patient, so steady—made her chest tighten painfully. 'This is what you wanted, Chéri. This is your plan. Take it.'

But why did it suddenly feel like she couldn't breathe? Why did it feel like this moment was no longer hers to control?

"I… I've always been an impatient man," Kenan admitted, voice low, almost vulnerable. "But for you… I've been trying to be patient. I've been chasing you with everything I have."

Her fingers curled involuntarily. A lump formed in her throat. And then—

With a deep inhale, she slowly placed her hands in his empty palms.

The moment their skin touched, he exhaled softly. His fingers curled around hers, warm and firm, yet gentle.

The way he held her was careful, deliberate—like she was something fragile.

Something precious.

A slow, breathtaking smile spread across his lips. "I promise," he murmured, "I'll never break your trust."

Her chest ached. Her fingers trembled slightly in his grasp. She nodded—just barely.

His thumbs brushed over the back of her hands, memorizing their shape.

"I'll never abandon you, Charlotte."

Her breath hitched.

A warmth unlike anything she'd ever felt spread through her chest, filling every space, every crevice of her guarded heart.

It was terrifying. So she pulled her hands away.

Quickly.

Avoiding his gaze, she whispered, "Your tea is getting cold."

Kenan chuckled, picking up his cup.

Chéri turned away—but not before he caught the faint, soft smile lingering on her lips.

A soft breeze rustled through the terrace, carrying with it the scent of fresh blossoms and the faintest whisper of the sea in the distance. The warmth of the setting sun bathed them in a golden glow, casting delicate shadows across the vines that trailed above their heads.

Kenan took a sip of his tea, letting its warmth settle inside him. His heartbeat had finally started to calm after the moment they had just shared, but his mind was still caught in the feeling of her hands in his—so small, so soft, yet so hesitant.

And then, as if the world wasn't already teasing his emotions enough, he noticed something.

A cluster of butterflies had begun to flutter around them, their delicate wings carrying them effortlessly from flower to flower.

Chéri, who had been keeping her eyes away from him since pulling her hands back, finally turned her gaze to them. A faint, almost wistful smile touched her lips.

"They're so beautiful," she murmured, watching as one of the butterflies landed gently on a nearby vine.

Kenan followed her gaze, his own smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah… suddenly, everything seems more beautiful."

She turned her head slightly, catching the way his eyes weren't on the butterflies at all.

They were on her.

Her breath stilled for just a second, but she quickly looked away, focusing instead on the butterfly resting peacefully on a yellow bloom. Slowly, she lifted her hand and extended a single finger toward it.

Kenan watched, amused but skeptical. "You think it'll actually—"

Before he could finish, the butterfly landed on her fingertip.

Kenan parted his lips slightly, caught off guard by how effortless it seemed." But how? Usually butterflies fly away from people."

Chéri's smile deepened as she looked at the tiny creature perched so delicately on her skin. "They only come to people they trust," she said softly. They sense warmth. Safety."

Kenan tilted his head, watching the butterfly for a moment before shifting his gaze back to her. "Then it must really like you."

"Maybe," she murmured, running her finger ever so gently under its tiny wings.

Then, she glanced at him. "You try."

Kenan hesitated, then slowly lifted his hand, mirroring her movement as he extended his finger toward a butterfly resting nearby. For a brief moment, nothing happened.

But then—

A delicate flutter. A tiny weight settled onto his fingertip.

His expression softened, eyes widening slightly as he gazed at the fragile creature now perched on his skin.

"Wow…" he breathed, tilting his hand slightly to get a better look. "I've never seen one land on someone like this before."

Chéri chuckled, watching his reaction with quiet amusement. "See? Even butterflies can sense warmth and kindness."

Kenan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "That's not true. I've never been known for kindness."

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. Then, with the gentlest voice, she whispered, "I think you're much kinder than you realize."

Kenan turned his head to her, and for a fleeting second, the air between them shifted again—charged with something unspoken, something neither of them dared to put into words.

She held his gaze for just a moment longer before she looked away, back to the butterfly still resting on her finger.

He smiled softly.

"I guess today, even the butterflies are on my side."

Chéri let out a small, warm laugh, and for once, she didn't try to hide it.

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To be continued

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