The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 675: You? Wanting to be spoiled? This is historic. Should I call witnesses?
His large hands wrapped around her stomach protectively, one palm covered the curve of her stomach while the other palm rubbed her stomach slowly and absentmindedly as if he could not stop touching her once he started.
Isabella smiled looking down at the soup as she leaned into his protective touch on her stomach.
Kian then leaned in towards her ear, and his warm breath touched the skin beneath her ear. Then he murmured in a low voice that sounded rougher than usual, "I missed you so much"
Isabella turned red at his confession as she felt her face redden with embarrassment. But she did not pull away.
Even though in the past she would have done exactly that and proceed to scold him for being shameless, she did not.
Because a part of her was now learning to accept Kian again, so she just stood there like a fool blushing while her heart kept beating too fast.
Then the moment she realized the position she was in, she couldn’t help but say something to ease the awkwardness in her chest.
"W-what is wrong with you? You are extra clingy today."
Hearing the way her voice was so flustered Kian could not help but lift his head gently and stare at the side of her face.
He was used to the Isabella who was always so confident and bossing people around, and it was a rare sight to witness, so he could not help but tease her.
"Are you blushing?" His voice came out teasingly as he used his nose to rub on her cheek.
And Isabella blinked and turned awys flustered. "W-who is blushing, you must be blind" She tried hiding her smile but failed.
Kian immediately change the position of his head to where her face was and his gaze immediately fell to her lips.
Then he answered her question in a soft tone, "I don’t know. I’m always working, and lately, I keep missing you more than before."
Then he answered her question in a soft tone, "I don’t know, I’m always walking and lately I keep missing you more than before."
Isabella’s fingers tightened slightly around the bowl in her hands as her heart skipped again, because hearing him say it so simply somehow made it worse.
This man really did not know how to speak normally anymore.
Isabella’s heart did something extremely inconvenient inside her chest.
So naturally, she tried to recover with pride.
"Whose fault is that?" she said, trying to sound annoyed even though her voice still carried a bit of softness she could not hide. "You are always the one keeping your distance. I am not going to chase you."
Kian lowered his head again and rested it against the crook of her neck as if her words did not push him away at all, and instead his arms only tightened slightly around her as his fingers continued to rub slow patterns on her stomach.
"That does not change anything," he murmured quietly. "I still missed you."
That softened her immediately.
Isabella’s breath paused for a second before she pushed lightly against his chest and turned around, because if she stayed like that any longer, she felt like her brain would stop working properly.
Isabella pressed a hand lightly to his chest, not to push him away harshly, but to make him loosen enough for her to turn. Then she looked up at him, still blushing, and lifted the bowl slightly.
"Here," she said. "You must be hungry. I made soup. Have some."
Kian did not argue and simply guided her by the waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world, his hand resting there firmly and warmly as he led her to sit down.
Then he looked at her and said calmly, "Feed me."
Isabella froze. Because the Kian she knew was always cold and distant, and now he was sitting there, freshly changed, looking tired and handsome and unfair, while asking to be fed like some giant sulking beast who had decided to become a baby for one day.
It was kind of cute.
Very cute, actually.
Too cute.
That was what made it suspicious.
She stared at him for a full second, then narrowed her eyes slowly as if she was trying to figure out whether this was really Kian or some imposter that had taken over his body overnight.
So Isabella narrowed her eyes and asked, "Kian, are you dying?"
He looked at her flatly. "No."
She continued, fully serious, "Is there something you’re not telling me, and you’ve decided to spend your final moments with me looking pitiful and asking for soup?"
Kian actually gave her a tired look. "I’m not dying. I’m just tired."
That answer made something in Isabella soften immediately.
Because when she looked at him properly, she realized it was true.
It was not just physical tiredness. It was something deeper. Something heavier that sat in his eyes and in the way his shoulders carried weight even when he was sitting still.
Her expression changed without her noticing.
She reached out and cupped his face gently, her fingers brushing against his cheek as she rubbed it softly.
"Then say that properly," she said in a quieter voice. "Do not act strange and scare me."
Kian went still.
For men like him, words like that were dangerous in a way swords never were.
A sword only cut flesh.
Words like that reached places he had spent years trying to wall shut.
Yet now, with her in front of him, bowl in hand, face soft, voice warm, and eyes full of that ridiculous sweetness she did not even seem to realize was destructive, he found himself unable to retreat from it.
So he simply looked at her.
Then he nodded once.
"Alright."
Isabella smiled a little and lifted the spoon.
She blew on it first, then held it to his mouth with the seriousness of someone doing very important work.
Kian obeyed without complaint.
That alone felt so strange that Isabella almost laughed.
"You really are acting strange today," she said while preparing another spoonful.
He swallowed, then answered, "Maybe I only feel like letting you spoil me."
She made a soft sound of disbelief. "You? Wanting to be spoiled? This is historic. Should I call witnesses?"
Kian’s gaze rested on her face. "No. This part is only for you."
That line landed so cleanly that Isabella nearly missed the spoon.
Honestly, this man was rude.
He could not keep saying things like that without warning and expect her blood pressure to remain normal.
So she fed him another spoonful and muttered, "That was too smooth. I don’t trust you."
