Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 273: First Kiss

–Alyssa–

"Hey, love birds!"

I nearly jolted away from Lore when Caine barged in between us, grinning like he’d just caught something illegal.

"The desserts, remember?" he added.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, whatever. You should be the one to take those. It’s my party."

"Baby girl, it’s your party," he teased. "You should serve your guests."

I rolled my eyes again, already exhausted by his logic.

Lore, completely unfazed, began placing the freshly made desserts into fancy clear cups with covers, lining them neatly on the tray like a professional caterer.

"Tata!"

Zayvier waddled toward us with an empty bowl in both hands. My heart instantly melted. He was unbearably adorable.

I bent down to his level. "What would you like, Sir Zay-Zay?"

"Ice cream!" he exclaimed.

"Ice cream?" Caine shrugged. "You’re too young for that."

Zay-Zay pouted, lips trembling.

But he’s our little boy.

So yes—I spoiled him.

I scooped a full bowl of ice cream, adding chocolate bits and fruit. His eyes sparkled as he took it and hurried back outside, bowl clutched like treasure. Caine followed him, shaking his head.

Lore placed the heavy tray into my hands. He only took two cups for himself.

"Here, take this."

I pouted. He tapped my forehead lightly.

"You can do it," he encouraged.

I carried it out anyway, but Jane swiftly took it from me and kicked Lore in the shin.

Everyone was happy.

The food was amazing. Laughter floated through the air. The babies were eating well—Sky especially. He was always the star of the night, finishing everything on his plate and still asking for more. Livana had to keep telling Damon to stop him from overeating.

It was always like that during meals.

After dinner, everyone started handing me gifts even though it wasn’t my birthday yet. There were already concrete plans, sketches, and designs for the real celebration. They talked about security, invitations, venues.

Catering was entrusted to Livana and Damon with Chef Wally.

I watched them all, warmth blooming quietly in my chest.

This wasn’t just a pre-party.

It was love—served on plates, wrapped in ribbons, laughing in small voices.

But anyway, I’m just so happy that everyone is here, planning for my eighteenth birthday.

"Here." Dad handed me a beer. "You can finally drink—but just a little."

I took a swig. Two seconds later, I turned and spat it out.

"This tastes bad!"

Lore laughed so loudly it echoed. I shoved the bottle back to Dad.

"Maybe you should drink something with flavor," Deanne suggested, and I nodded eagerly.

My eyes drifted to Lore, who was casually sipping from a brown bottle.

"What’s that?"

He lifted it slightly. "Ginger ale. Vodka."

Smirnoff.

Interesting.

David handed me an open bottle. I took a sip. It tasted like soda—ginger, light, almost playful.

"Oh. I like this." I chuckled and kept drinking.

Everyone here had their partner. Somehow, that made my chest feel... tight.

I should have a boyfriend.

But the boys in my class aren’t my type. And then there’s Lore.

I like him. I like him so much.

But I don’t want to confess. It might ruin what we have. He might pull away. He might treat me differently. He might leave.

I pouted at the thought.

Lore must be my first love—though not my first crush. Loving someone this way is exhausting. Quiet. Heavy. Lonely.

"Can I also date, since I’m nearly eighteen?" I asked out of nowhere.

Everyone froze.

"No!" Dad, David, and Damon said in perfect unison.

"Huh?" I raised a brow. "Do you want me to be a spinster?"

"Probably," David nodded.

Lore laughed with Kai while they clinked bottles.

"Don’t listen to them, honey," Aunt Ines said, glaring at Dad.

Dad sighed dramatically. "Fine. Maybe when you’re over fifty, you can have a boyfriend."

Everyone burst out laughing.

That included Lore.

And somehow, that laugh hurt more than I expected.

I just hope he won’t find a girlfriend.

And if he does...

I hope I’m already over him.

I don’t want to hurt this much.

I don’t want to be jealous.

Not of him. Not like this.

–Lore–

Everyone was almost drunk. I was only a bit tipsy—huge difference. Aunt Amiliee pointed at Alyssa, who was already knocked out on the sofa, her hair spilling over the cushions like she melted into them. She told me to help Alyssa while she dealt with her equally drunk husband.

I glanced around.

Sky had just vomited from overeating. Aunt Ines was already supporting Damon. Livana had left about thirty minutes ago with the girls.

Chaos. Absolute chaos.

I shook Alyssa gently. She groaned. With a sigh, I crouched and pulled her onto my back. She wrapped her arms and legs around me instinctively, warm and heavy, her cheek pressing against my shoulder.

"Smirnoff tastes good," she muttered.

"Yep. You’re drunk."

She started mumbling in French. I had no idea what she was saying—probably summoning ancient spirits or confessing secrets to the universe. Then she went quiet as we headed down the hall toward her room.

"Lorenzo," she murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Your name is Lorenzo, right?"

"You are correct."

She tightened her arms around my neck. Too tight.

"Hey—are you trying to kill me?" I wheezed as I kept walking.

She loosened her grip with a sleepy laugh.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked out of nowhere.

"Nope."

"Hm. If you ever have one... can you tell me ahead of time?"

"Why?"

"Just—" A long pause. "Just tell me if you like someone or if you’re dating, so I won’t get shocked if you suddenly bring someone to the apartment."

I grinned as I walked slowly. I wished her room was farther away—another wing, another floor, another eternity.

"I won’t bring one."

She scoffed softly.

I laid her on the bed, careful not to jostle her. I removed her shoes and bent to tuck her in. She grabbed my shirt.

"Lorenzo... Do you even think of me as a girl?" she whispered. "You know... someone you might like?"

"I like you, okay?" I sighed, my eyes tracing her face—those rare eyes that always looked brighter under real light.

If only she knew how hard it was to look away.

"Really?" She pulled me closer. "Then... you don’t ever think of me as a woman worth marrying?"

I froze.

Tears slid down her cheeks. Her lips trembled as she tried to smile.

"I mean, yeah... I’m not worth it. I’m just another spoon-fed rich girl who lives off her parents’ money."

I wiped her tears. Dramatic, sure—but whatever storm she was feeling was real to her.

And I couldn’t be with her.

I couldn’t risk her.

I had no right to date—let alone marry—someone who needed freedom. Someone who deserved wings.

I caressed her cheek and stared at her beauty in silence.

Maybe I stopped restraining my feelings—just for a second.

I leaned closer, close enough to feel her breath, close enough to see every tremor in her lashes. The room felt too small, the air too warm. My heart was loud in my ears, drowning out every rational thought I owned.

Then I stopped.

Her name stayed on my tongue, heavy and dangerous. I pulled back, fists tightening at my sides, as if I had to physically anchor myself to the floor.

"Lore?" Her voice was soft, uncertain.

I reached out—not to cross the line, not to take—but to brush a stray tear from her cheek. My thumb lingered there, shaking.

"Sleep," I murmured.

She nodded slowly, confusion and trust mingling in her eyes. Her hand caught my sleeve, light, hesitant. I gently wrapped my fingers around hers and lowered it back onto the pillow.

I stayed seated beside her, counting my breaths, waiting for the storm inside me to quiet. Only when her breathing evened and her face softened in sleep did I stand.

Outside her room, the mansion felt enormous and hollow. Sky’s cries echoed down the hall, then faded when Livana’s voice soothed him. I paused, staring at the darkened corridor, my chest aching with things I had no right to want.

I shook my head.

Alyssa is not for me.

With that lie—because it had to be one—I turned away and walked to the far wing, to the room Damon had built for me, and let the door close between me and everything I couldn’t have.

I went straight to the bathroom, did my thing, and tried to rinse Alyssa out of my head.

It didn’t work.

Instead of sleeping after the bath, I locked my room and headed to the Nest. I never thought that after a few bottles of that ginger-ale vodka, I’d end up wide awake. That almost-kiss, that closeness—her scent—had become my caffeine. It kept me alert, restless. It kept me thinking of her.

I slouched on the sofa and pulled up the mansion’s camera feeds, one by one. Everyone had retreated to their rooms. Grandma Olivia and Grandpa Reagan were still lingering with Aunt Ines, as expected. They never liked letting go.

Then I switched to Alyssa’s room.

Door secured. Balcony locked. Choco prowling faithfully near the glass.

Good.

I leaned back and rubbed my face.

So this is it, huh? I’m in love—and I can’t tell her.

"Lore."

I froze.

I hadn’t noticed anyone else in the Nest. Livana stepped into the dim light. I turned toward her, my heartbeat still uneven.

"Hmm?"

"Why aren’t you asleep?" she asked gently.

"I just... can’t," I answered, honest for once.

She nodded and stood beside me, her gaze drifting toward the wall of screens.

"Everything is under control," she murmured. "But I’m more worried about Alyssa’s party."

"Hmm." I nodded. "They’ll notice you."

"Of course." She sighed—and for the first time, I saw anxiety slip through her composed armor. "Lore, remember our agreement? Whatever happens, you secure the Nest. Secure our family."

I nodded.

"When I say our family," she added softly, "that includes you. And your family."

My chest tightened.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know what she meant.

But suddenly, I was nervous in a way no mission had ever made me.