As soon as the words left her mouth, Clarissa instantly regretted it.

Had she lost her mind? How could she say something like that to Elian?

She opened her mouth, trying to backpedal, maybe throw in a "just kidding."

But then Elian's dark eyes fixed on her, a subtle smirk forming at the corner of his lips, and he said without missing a beat, "Sure."

Clarissa froze.

Then came Elian stepping closer, his tall figure casting a shadow over her. "But just to be clear, Clarissa-I'm not into fake marriages or those pretend arrangements. If we're doing this, then it's real. Real couple, all in, nothing less. You sure you've thought it through?"

Normally, she'd think that kind of talk was over-the-top. But right now, he was literally her only way out.

She met his gaze head-on and responded firmly, "Yeah. I've thought it through."

"I'll give you a week to get ready. After that... we'll become husband and wife in every sense of the word. Do you agree?"

"I do."

When they walked out of the Marriage Registration Center, the sunlight was a bit too bright.

Clarissa stared down at the thin red booklet in her hand, still in a haze.

In the photo, Elian looked calm and confident. Her own smile barely held up, and her eyes screamed confusion.

So this was it? Married? And to Elian, of all people?

"Give it," Elian said, casually holding his hand out.

Out of reflex, Clarissa handed over hers too.

Elian didn't stop; he took them both. She blinked in confusion as he waved the little red booklets a bit, that usual faint smirk on his lips. "I'll keep them. You're too forgetful, might end up losing yours."

Before she could say a word, he already had his phone out and snapped a pic of the two certificates side by side. His fingers tapped away quickly on the screen.

"What're you doing?" Clarissa suddenly had a bad feeling.

"Posting it on my feed." Elian didn't even look up. "We're married now. Gotta make it official, kill off any lingering hopes from others."

There was a clear undertone in his voice. He finished uploading the photo and turned his phone so she could see.

It was their red marriage booklets, front and center. Caption was simple: [Couldn't be luckier to call you mine, Mrs. Langley. @Clarissa Beckett]

That "Mrs. Langley" hit her like a shockwave, rushing through her limbs with a buzz. Her heart skipped a beat, and her face flushed uncontrollably.

Then Elian's arm casually wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her gently into his side.

Clarissa stiffened immediately, instinctively trying to pull away. The closeness was too much, too sudden-his scent, the pressure-it all messed with her heartbeat and scrambled her sense of direction.

Elian felt the resistance and tightened his arm slightly. "What are you dodging for? We've signed the papers, it's on the internet now-everyone knows you're my wife. What, getting cold feet already?"

He paused, his fingers lightly brushing her shoulder in a slow, deliberate motion that sent a shiver down her spine. "Even if you are, it's too late now."

"I'm not regretting it." Clarissa looked into his deep eyes-eyes so intense it felt like they were pulling her in. She took a breath, forcing herself to sound calm. "I'm just... not used to this yet."

"I'm not really someone who's good with that whole physical closeness thing. And besides, we were never exactly..."

"Guess it's because things between us haven't exactly been... smooth. So yeah, kinda hard to just jump into the whole married-couple thing right away." She paused for a second, like she was pushing herself to get real, then looked up at him with clear, steady eyes.

"I'll admit it-when I asked you to marry me, part of it was out of spite. I had this dumb urge to slap certain people in the face with it. That was immature, and I'm sorry. But I'm serious now. I'll try to get used to this... whatever normal married life is supposed to look like."

She meant every word.

From the moment they walked out of the Marriage Registration Center, whatever leftover feelings she had for Sebastian were completely gone.

She'd made a decision, and she wasn't about to look back.

Elian listened in silence. The stiff edge in his expression softened, replaced by the faintest trace of a smile.

"Good," he said, letting go of her arm-and just when Clarissa thought he was backing off, he reached down and casually laced his fingers with hers. His palm was warm, firm, and very, very real.

"Since my dear Mrs. Langley is all in now, how about we head home and pack up?"

With her hand still in his, Clarissa blinked. "Pack up? Why?"

"To move in together, of course! You're my wife now-how could we still be living apart?"

His matter-of-fact tone, his unshakeable confidence, it suddenly made Clarissa's heart clench in a weird, unfamiliar way-like something long missing had quietly filled a gap she didn't even realize was there.

During six years with Sebastian, she'd never once felt anything even close.

She'd wasted the best part of her youth on someone who never really saw her. Foolish didn't even begin to cover it.

She slid into the front passenger seat of Elian's black Bentley and gave him the address to her place.

Elian started the engine, merging smoothly into traffic. After a moment of silence, he spoke-eyes still on the road-and casually recited her full address. Right down to her unit number. And the door code.

Clarissa snapped her head toward him, completely stunned. "Wait-how do you know that?!"

Even her family didn't have that level of detail. No one did.

Elian's lips tugged up, that amused smirk of his dancing at the corners. When the red light ahead forced him to stop, he took his foot off the brake, unlatched his seatbelt, and leaned in toward her-close.

His scent hit her all at once, crisp and clean with a faint undertone of cedar, wrapping her up entirely.

His face was right there-so close she could count his lashes, trace the perfect line of his nose. She could feel his breath on her cheek, light but hot enough to burn.

Clarissa froze, pressing back against the leather seat, barely daring to breathe. Her pulse was thundering, her skin flushing fast-ears, neck, everything.

Elian clearly enjoyed the reaction. The look in his eyes turned downright mischievous, and he reached out to lightly tap her nose with his fingertip-like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Because I've had my eye on you for a while now, Mrs. Langley."

"Why else do you think I'd say yes to such a sudden proposal?"

The words hit her like a cannonball, shattering the calm surface of her heart with waves of chaos.

She stared at him, wide-eyed and trying to process.

He... He already liked her?

Since when?

How was that even possible?

Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the sea was pitch black and restless. Inside, the room was warm and cozy, the fire in the fireplace flickering, casting a soft glow over the embracing couple.

Aria was dressed in a silky robe, nestled bonelessly in Sebastian's arms, her fingers lazily tracing circles on his chest. "Sebastian, wasn't today the day you were supposed to get the marriage license with Clarissa? Aren't you worried she'll be mad, since you're here with me instead?"

Sebastian let out a snort of laughter, his arm draped carelessly across the back of the sofa, posture screaming indifference. "Mad? What's she mad about?"

"She chased after me for six years, and the second I threw her a bone, she thought she was in. Seriously?"

"If it wasn't for the Beckett family's background and her knowing how to keep in line, I wouldn't even bother playing nice. She can never compare to you."

Aria's eyes flickered with amusement, but on the surface, she looked pitiful, delicate.

"Don't say that, Sebastian-it's my fault. If I hadn't gotten hurt back then, maybe you and her-"

"It had nothing to do with you, Aria!" He instantly tightened his hold on her, voice tense with frustration and guilt. "If it weren't for her, you wouldn't have missed out on such a huge opportunity. She's the one who owes you."

"Everything Clarissa has came at your expense. So tell me, what right does she have to feel wronged?"

The more he thought about it, the more it agitated him.

He leaned down, kissed the top of Aria's head, speaking gently, "Let's not talk about her anymore. She ruins the mood. Tonight's about you and me."

*****

At the same time, Clarissa stood in front of the apartment she had lived in for years, feeling an oddly familiar sense of unease.

She slid the key into the lock, but it wouldn't turn. A warm, firm hand suddenly covered hers from behind, applying a gentle twist.

Click-the door opened.

Elian stood just behind her, close enough that his breath brushed against her ear.

He chuckled quietly, teasing, "What, nervous to come home? Need me to carry you in, Mrs. Langley?"

Clarissa's ears warmed instantly. She stepped away quickly and walked into the apartment ahead of him.

The place wasn't big, but it was neat and cozy. A cat was napping lazily on the armrest of the couch and perked up at the noise.

Clarissa's face softened without her noticing. She crouched down, reaching out her hand. "Come here, Plumie."

The cat blinked, recognized her, and hopped down gracefully, brushing up against her legs affectionately.

Elian closed the door, leaning against the entryway cabinet, watching the woman and the cat. There was something unreadable in his eyes.

He raised an eyebrow, his voice lightly nostalgic with a hint of tenderness. "So it's still here. You've kept it all these years."

Clarissa gently ran her fingers over Plumie's soft fur, glancing up at him, an unexpected flicker of surprise in her gaze. "You remember?"

"Of course I remember." Elian walked over and crouched across from her, reaching out tentatively to touch Plumie's nose. The cat shifted back slightly but didn't run.

He chuckled, but his eyes stayed on Clarissa as he said meaningfully, "Back when I gave her to you, she was skin and bones, like a little rat. Now she's all fat and happy."

His words were like a key, suddenly unlocking a wave of memories.

One sweltering summer years ago, he had stood outside her place in a plain white T-shirt, sweat-damp hair stuck to his forehead, gently holding a scruffy little cat in his arms.

Back then, his family had fallen into crisis and he was about to be forced overseas-no idea what the future held.

The fire in his youth had long been dulled by reality, leaving behind only sharp edges and a quiet unwillingness to let go.

He shoved the kitten into Clarissa's arms, tone deliberately casual and nonchalant. "Here. Found it by the street, no one seemed to want it. Figured you're into these little furballs. If you don't mind, just keep it."

The moment she held that warm, tiny life, her heart softened.

She could tell-he cared about the cat. Maybe... he cared about her too.

But she knew he was leaving the country. So she swallowed that bitter sting in her chest, forced a bright smile, and said, "Thank you, Elian. I'll take good care of it. You take care too over there. Wishing you all the best."

He looked at her for a long beat before muttering a low "yeah," then turned around and walked off without glancing back once.

Pulled back from the memory, the air seemed laced with a quiet sense of loss.

Elian scratched under Plumie's chin, and the kitten purred contentedly, like it finally remembered him.

He looked up, that mischievous glint returning to his eyes, lips curling into a teasing grin. "You know, Clarissa, you took in this cat, and now married me so decisively. Don't tell me... you've actually been into me all along?"

His voice rose playfully, body leaning forward just slightly, closing the gap between them.

Clarissa froze at his sudden suggestion, cheeks blazing red. Flustered and annoyed, she blurted, "Elian! Don't talk nonsense!"

"Nonsense?" Elian chuckled low, his gaze locked onto hers, intense enough to pull her in. "Then explain-why me, exactly?"

Every word hit straight, with an intensity that made the air itself thicken with tension.

"Stop flattering yourself!" Her heart pounded like crazy. She tried to sound firm, but his nearness robbed her voice of its usual steadiness.

"I'm flattering myself?" Elian leaned in closer, so near their noses almost touched. His voice dropped to a murmur, intimate and dangerous. "Clarissa... say that again, looking me in the eye."

Reluctantly, she met his gaze-dark, deep, and swirling with emotion she couldn't quite name. It was overwhelming and magnetic.

She opened her mouth but couldn't get a word out.

They just stared, like two stubborn cubs in a silent standoff, neither backing down, yet inching closer and closer without even noticing-close enough to feel each other's breath.

"Clarissa, can I... kiss you?"

Elian's voice was barely audible, laced with hesitation and vulnerability. As he leaned in, his warm breath brushed her lips-

Clarissa jolted like she'd been snapped out of a trance.

"No!" she shot up like a spring, fumbling for words. "I-I need to pack my stuff!"

Then she bolted into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her like she was escaping something terrifying.

Silence took over the living room, broken only by a confused "meow" from Plumie.

Elian stayed frozen in his half-crouch, staring at the shut door. The heat in his eyes dimmed, slowly replaced by something deeper-longing, thick with regret.

He straightened up and walked over to the window, staring out at the city lights. He lit a cigarette but didn't take a drag.

Regret filled his chest.

Why did he leave all those years ago?

Why didn't he just stay no matter what?

If he'd been just a little braver, a little more certain, maybe they wouldn't have lost six years.

Without that six-year gap... how could he have let that bastard Sebastian hurt her so badly?

Not long after, Clarissa came out of the room, dragging a small suitcase behind her. From the size of it, she clearly didn't bring much.

Elian walked over with Plumie curled up in his arms.

Clarissa took one look and couldn't help but shake her head-what a little attention hog.

Just seeing Elian's face was apparently enough; Plumie was already rubbing up against him, purring contentedly and settling in like that spot had always belonged to them.

Well, at least she didn't have to worry about how Plumie would adjust to the new place.

"That's all you brought?" Elian asked.

Clarissa nodded, then tossed the question back at him. "Didn't pack many clothes. I figured a high-flying finance guy like you probably has a well-stocked closet."

He gave a half-smirk. "Heh, someone's got high hopes. Are you sure my fashion sense is good enough for you, rising star of the violin world?"

Clarissa rolled her eyes. Classic Elian-still couldn't take any teasing without firing back.

"You carry the cat bag," she said plainly, taking Plumie from him and placing it into its carrier.

Elian threw the strap over his shoulder without a fuss and casually grabbed her suitcase too.

"Let's roll, Mrs. Langley."

He packed the luggage in the trunk while Clarissa had already settled into the passenger seat up front, sitting like the perfect model of well-behaved.

Elian got in after her but didn't start the car right away.

Instead, he just looked at her, eyes steady and warm, like he had all the time in the world.

Clarissa started to feel awkward under his gaze. She turned to look out the window, even checked if her outfit looked off somehow.

Everything seemed in order, and yet he was still staring.

"What are you looking at?" she finally asked, voice stiff as she shifted uncomfortably.

"Just thinking," Elian said lazily, a small smile playing on his lips.

Thinking? Don't tell her he was already regretting the marriage?

"Thinking about what?"

He gave a low chuckle, eyes narrowing a little as he teased, "You planning to get me pulled over? No seatbelt means a ticket-and I'm too pretty for traffic school."

Oh, crap.

Clarissa instantly wanted to disappear. She quickly reached for the seatbelt, but no matter how she tugged, it wouldn't click.

Elian sighed, leaned over, adjusted the strap, then-click-snapped it into place.

Clarissa swore all her life's most embarrassing moments had chosen today to make an appearance.

Whenever she was around Elian, it was like she couldn't avoid making a fool of herself.

Still lost in thought, her forehead was suddenly flicked.

Elian sighed, mock-disappointed.

"Clarissa, after all these years, has your brain really not caught up? Or did all the growth just... shift south?"

His eyes dipped pointedly-only to be met with a palm smacking over them.

"Elian!" she snapped. "Don't be such a perv!"

Her cheeks flushed red with frustration, cheeks almost glowing.

Now she was the one second-guessing their marriage-not Elian.

Why on earth did she agree to marry him anyway?!

Just thinking about spending more time like this made her head throb.

Elian didn't seem offended though-he merely curved his lips into a smug smile, clearly enjoying himself.

"Well, look who's finally acting like her old self again. And just so you know, once you're married, it's not called being a perv anymore. It's called having fun. Get it?"

Clarissa blinked, glancing at him.

His fingers rested casually on the steering wheel, and with a couple buttons undone at the collar, he gave off an effortlessly masculine vibe.

Maybe she'd never actually looked at him properly before.

Their time together had always been filled with arguments or tangled up in things related to Sebastian.

He and Sebastian never got along. They clashed all the time. Even before she started crushing on Sebastian, those two fought constantly.

She used to apologize to people on Sebastian's behalf almost out of habit.

Now that she had completely cut ties with him and could see more clearly, she realized-Elian actually looked better than Sebastian in some ways.

There was an arrogant edge to him for sure, always walking around like he owned the place. But somehow, it wasn't irritating up close.

Though honestly, if he could just tone down the sarcasm, he'd probably be even more likable.

She couldn't help wondering-why had she been so hung up on Sebastian back then?

That one comment from Elian, asking if she was being her "old self," had her suddenly struggling to recall who that even was.

"Elian, what was I like before?"

She stared at the red light blinking outside the window, her voice quiet.

Elian turned to look at her. His usually pale face now had a faint blush spreading across it.

His lashes fluttered just the slightest bit, like soft wings in motion.

For a moment, he spaced out-until she nudged him.

"Green light."

Only then did he snap out of it, easing his foot off the brake.

"What were you zoning out about?" Clarissa asked, half-suspicious.

Was he daydreaming about some other girl or what?

"I was thinking about you," he replied casually.

Her heart skipped a beat-until he followed it up with, "You asked what you used to be like."

"I'd say... you used to be kind of slow. A little clueless. Not great at telling right from wrong. And yeah-just a tad too proud for your own good."

Clarissa puffed up her cheeks and locked eyes with him. "Wanna try that again?"

That tone? Pure "I dare you to keep talking."

Elian laughed, reaching over to ruffle her hair.

"Oh, come on. Even 'To be or not to be' took you two hours-don't tell me that's genius behavior. You showed up to your PE exam in ballet flats-explain that. And when Sebastian decked me for calling him out, you actually apologized to him. How's that not a little... morally confused?"

He laid it out, one by one, like he had receipts for days.

Clarissa thought about it for a second. Okay... maybe he had a point.

Hard to argue with the truth, even if it stung a little.

All that debating champ title from college? Totally wasted.

Seeing her at a loss for words, Elian paused, wondering if maybe he'd gone a bit too far.

So he added, "But hey, your violin game? Honestly amazing. Every time you pick it up, you've got this proud vibe going on-like a black swan."

"Huh?" Clarissa blinked. "Why a black swan? Why not a white one?"

Elian gave a light chuckle.

"Maybe because white swans are everywhere. Black swans? Way rarer."

And well, you're one of a kind.

Clarissa didn't really dwell on it.

As the car turned into Skyreach Manor, she looked out the window, surprised. "You live here?"

Elian drove into the underground parking, made a turn, and finally parked. He stepped out and went around to the trunk to grab their stuff.

With one hand holding the cat carrier and the other a suitcase, he raised an eyebrow at her. "Lock the car, will you?"

"Uh? Oh, sure. Where's the key?"

"Left pocket of my pants."

Clarissa's eyes dipped down-awkward, yeah, but hey, they're married now. A week from now, they'd probably be doing stuff way beyond this. Thinking that made it feel less weird.

She reached into his pocket, fished around a little, found the key, locked the car, then trailed behind him.

Inside the elevator, Elian said, "23rd floor."

Clarissa quietly pressed the button. Skyreach had one-unit-per-floor setups, and the high-floor layouts offered killer views of the river and the massive bridge nearby. Just imagining it made her a little giddy.

Ding.

The elevator slid open.

Elian walked ahead, scanned his fingerprint, keyed in a code, then looked back. "Come here. Time for yours."

Clarissa hesitated, wondering which finger to use.

Without a word, Elian grabbed her hand and helped her press three fingers onto the scanner.

Done with that, he bent down and grabbed a pair of disposable slippers from the shoe cabinet. "No ladies' shoes yet-we'll make a run to the store later."

Clarissa nodded, smiling slightly. "That's fine."

She kicked off her shoes quickly, slipped into the disposable slippers, and tiptoed over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The view stole her breath. Maybe this whole marriage thing wasn't that bad after all.

"Elian, your place is seriously gorgeous."

Of course, she meant the view-not the black and white minimalist tones everywhere inside.

At some point, Elian had stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her.

Clarissa froze a little, but didn't pull away. Like he said-she had to get used to it.

His breath brushed against her ear.

And then, in a calm voice, he said, "Clarissa, it's our home. Not just mine."

Only then did it hit her-he was correcting the way she'd been calling it "your place."

Still facing the window, her cheeks tinged with pink, she murmured, "Got it."