“I find it incredibly rude that you make such a big deal with me being in my underwear while you stripped down to your nethers the very first night.”

“We were trapped, I had no choice to.”

“My point still stands.” She scolds.

“My bed's smaller than the one at the hotel, so I’ll make a pillow wall.” Theo opts to say instead, opening his dresser to take out excess dress cushions.

“Relax, we're going to be married in a matter of days—I think we can forego any kind of pillow barrier.”

Theo looks at her, placing them individually back in the drawer. “Alright.” He lifts the red bedcover, climbing into the right side. “I’ll be sleeping now. Don’t make too much noise.” He nestles onto his side, closing his eyes. Delia sighs, glancing around her room. It's not like she could browse on her phone—the kidnappers made sure to confiscate them. Maybe going to sleep was the best option. Delia flicks off the light switch, climbing into bed shortly after. The mattress is harder than what she's accustomed to, but it'll make do. Theo was right—he was a lot closer to her in this bed. It didn’t make her uncomfortable but…it did spring feelings she wasn’t expecting.

Pleasant feelings…

Delia wakes up, nestling her face into the warmth that is Theo’s bare shoulder. She brushes a thick curl from her face, smelling the faint hint of sandalwood. She blinks wearily before her mind connects the dots. Oh god! She hops up, staring at the man’s bare chest, thank god he wasn’t stirring. She couldn’t bear to think about what he would say if he was awake. His face had a gentle sweetness to it when he was asleep.

She could stare at it for hours—erm, excuse her brain for placing such cursed thoughts into her mind! Yes, this man was to be her husband…but she wasn’t ready for these kinds of thoughts.

Theo stirs, his eyes are barely open before she flings herself to her side of the bed. Maybe he didn’t notice. His stiff posture and the quickness he got out from the sheets did, as he turns away from her. It’s so vapid that the sheets fly with him.

“Goddammit,” he mutters to himself, grabbing the sheet to cover his lap.

“Hey,” she shouts at him. “Don't steal the entire cover, I’m chilly over here!”

“I’m starting to lose my patience with you.” He growls lowly.

“The hell? I’ve literally done nothing to you.”

“You’re messing with my head.” He growls.

“And how am I doing that exactly?!” She hops out of bed, demanding to see his face. He won't look at her. “What have I done—go on—don’t leave me guessing!”

His eyebrows furrow as she sees his lip curl upwards. “I can’t believe you’re so dim that I have to spell it out—I’m a straight man, Delia. I can’t just ignore you parading around wearing skimpy, see-through, or revealing clothing.”

Delia blinks from shock.

“I said I wouldn’t touch you, but it’s not because I don’t want to—It’s because I have respect.” His sudden outburst confuses her, but it excites her at the same time. “But damn, you’re making this awfully hard when I have to wake up and have you half draped on me.”

“That was an accident! I knew you thought I was pretty but...” Delia stutters from his validation. Is that the reason why he was short with her? She didn’t realize that saw her as a woman. That thought alone was entertaining, and much to her surprise, alluring.

“I can’t believe I’m engaged to a bimbo.” Theo curses under his breath. “I’m taking a shower.”

Delia couldn’t be mad; she cackles in her head as she sees him scuffle to the bathroom. She really stirred him up just from an accidental cuddle. That gave her much more pleasure than it should. She had the idle thought of joining him in the shower—no—that wasn’t because she wanted to. She just wanted to tease him more—a newfound hunger thrummed through her as she allowed herself to play with the possibilities.

Maybe they would be better at kissing than talking.

She’s distracted by a dull ache in her mouth. She forgot to brush her teeth. However, Theo just walked into the bathroom. And she hears the shower running. She couldn’t barge in now—especially since she’s allegedly a sinful woman. Except Delia didn’t care. At this moment, her comfort far outweighed his. Delia waits until she hears the shower running before she walks into the bathroom. The counter is neat and clean—good to know that her future husband is a tidy man.

Before she turns on the taps, she hears a, “The hell are you doing in the bathroom—wait until I’m done!”

“I’m not waiting to brush my teeth, so deal with it.”

“If you turn on the tap I swear I—fucking hell!”

Delia turned it on for only a second to wet her toothbrush. He removes his head from the shower curtain, his dark hair sudsy from the shampoo. She stares back at him; toothbrush in her mouth. She tells him that she’ll only be a minute, but it's muffled between the soapy toothpaste and her lips.

He glares at her before whipping behind the shower curtain. “You get one minute.” Delia finishes up, leaving her toothbrush on the sink. As she leaves, she catches an unusual sight through the window. Her brother Delius on the patio, arms locked with another man wearing a crab tee. His wavy hair frames his charming face, his ruby eyes glistening as he chuckles.

Oh shit, Oli’s here? What’s going to happen when Milo sees him? As if they read her mind, Oli locks lips with Delius for a moment before pulling away. She’s never seen her brother look so defeated—no—just because he was in love didn’t give him the right to mess with Delia’s life! Serves him right to feel a pull of remorse. 

Delia’s interrupted by a firm grunt of the throat; she turns around to see Theo with a towel wrapped around his waist—his torso is lined with glossy moisture. Delia feels her own cheeks burning as she looks away, but she’s not mad about it. If his appeal was the only thing she would focus on, so be it.

“It was…rude to growl at you like that.” He says, his wet messy giving him a boyish look. “I shouldn’t have called you that.”

“A bimbo?” Delia raises a brow. She soon shrugs. “I’ve been called worse.” She congratulates herself for not stuttering. Damn, is this how he felt? Maybe he had the right to be angry with her.

The rest of the day was filled with dress fittings at the manor. Delia wasn’t pleased with dress fittings—especially with tailors that seemed to have no patience with her body. They draped a soft eggshell fabric over her minimally clothed frame. Her grandmother had always preferred Delia in blue—said it paired excellently with her honeydew curls, but she refused. She hated blue. Delia was never good at standing still, feeling a sudden urge to jerk and move about. And when those pins reached her skin, god, it hurt! She’ll never forgive that man for being so careless—but thinking about it now, he only had a day to make it. If it was any less than perfect, all her torture would have been for nothing. Delia had asked Theo how the fitting went, and for him, it went seamlessly. She wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a pun or not, but she ignored it nonetheless. It wasn’t fair that she had to deal with the incompetence of these tailors. But no, with Theodore, they had nothing but the gentlest of hands. Then again, one sour look in their direction would be enough to scare them into professionalism. 

Dinner had been delicious, but the table was scarce when it came to conversation. Milo and Cordelia lead the chatter, but Delia wanted nothing to do with her family. Delius kept to himself, which, good. Thorne was animatingly recounting his day to Thea, who looked like she hadn’t been so bored in her life. That managed to get a smile on her face. Theo’s mood perked up when dessert was served, digging his face into the pumpkin pie. He even managed to get some whipped cream on his nose.

The night was also silent, Theo placing the pillow barricade between them. He said nothing to her as he fell asleep, leaving Delia to feel the pang of loneliness. Loneliness was better than fear, but neither were desirable emotions. 

Delia wakes up, her unruly curls are spread out across the cushion. She turns to her side, but as soon as she does, she hears the shower running. Theo’s already getting ready? Did she sleep in late? No, that couldn’t be it—she hadn’t slept in since the mention of her engagement. Delia lets out a deep-rooted sigh before lifting herself from the bed.

Tomorrow would be the wedding. She rubs her eyes, groaning at the thought.

What made it worse is that there was a knock on Theo’s bedroom door. Was it wise for her to answer? It couldn’t be one of those suspicious bodyguards—there’d be no reason for them to contact her so openly. Delia opens the door, a servant hands her the box.

It was her wedding dress.

“What’s in the box?” She hears Theo speak from the other side of the room. She didn’t even notice his shower had ended.

“I see. Did you want to try it on?”

“Isn’t it bad luck for a groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the big day?”

“Is it? You tell me.”

“I’m going to say that our luck couldn’t get any worse, so to hell with it.” Delia opens the box lifting the dress from the tissue paper. He stares as she takes it to the bathroom.

“What?”

“It’s all moist and foggy in there, you’ll ruin the dress.”

“It’s not like I can change here—you’ll make a fuss.”

“I won’t—I’ll turn away.” He does it immediately, using his hand to shield his eyes. She steps into the eggshell garment, pulling it up to her chest. She goes to zipper it up, but can’t reach all the way.

“Hey, I need your help.” Delia expects a no. Instead, she sees his shoulders tense up. Delia notices that he’s wearing a black tee with beige cargo shorts, which was unusually casual for him. Why was she so focused on his clothes? She needs help with her dress.

“Yeah, sure.” He inches his head around, keeping his eyes to the ground as he offers his assistance. Delia feels the sudden tightness around her chest—it fits, but she’s paranoid that she’ll spill out of her top with any rash movement.  

Her appearance doesn’t go unnoticed by Theo. “It didn’t really set in until now,” Theo says, fixing a crinkle near the hemline. “You make a good-looking bride.”

She flushes. It wasn’t that fancy. The relatively simple dress she chose looked elegant, despite its strapless design. The dress barely made its way past her knees, the lace sequins flaring out the skirt quite elegantly. A necklace could dress up her outfit quite well, but, there wasn’t any need for that. He reaches for her hand, pulling her attention towards him.

“I can’t stand the thought of those bastards leering at us—waiting to get their grubby hands on the island deed.”

“I know. Tomorrow was supposed to be the best day of my life—but it’s just a reminder of the fate we suffer.”

“Fuck them,” Theo growls.

“It’s nice that I don’t have to suffer alone.” Shit—Delia feels tears stinging her eyes again. She doesn’t want to cry in Theo’s presence again.

“I made you a promise. They won’t hurt you again.” He says as he takes the initiative to wipe her tears.  His hand lingers on her face. She makes a gasp as he pulls her close, cupping one cheek with his palm. He breathlessly takes her lips, a soaring heat envelops Delia's body as she melts into his caress, tasting the minty flavour of his breath. She follows his lead, feeling his fingertips fumble with the zipper he had helped her with moments earlier.

He breaks away suddenly, the disappointment sinks into her being. He turns away, her lips pulsing, aching for him to return. She was sitting on a man who could kiss her like that?

“Apologies. I…don't mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t.” Delia smiles shyly. “I liked it.”

He blinks, somehow surprised by that notion. “It’s that bloody dress—makes you irresistible.”

“You’ll be seeing it again tomorrow.” Her cheeks tickle with flattery. 

“Mm…” Theo says, looking at her. “Best to put it away so it doesn’t crease. I…need to talk to Grandfather—lock the door behind me.” Delia understands that it’s for her own safety. By tomorrow, she’ll no longer be trapped in this room.

She’ll be a free woman.