Chapter 35: Caught
Julian was woken by the sound of rain. Heavy raindrops hammered fiercely against the window. Even through the glass, he could feel how wet and cold it was outside, with strong winds whipping a few stray leaves around. Thick dark clouds blocked out the sunlight.
The soft sensation of the thigh under his head hit him the next second. He quickly sat up and glanced at the clean fabric on Margaret Monroe's lap, relieved he hadn't drooled in his sleep.
Thinking back, he probably should have refused earlier. His father had taught him pretty conservative ideas about physical boundaries between guys and girls. If it had been anyone else, Julian might have turned it down. But this was Margaret—the girl he liked.
He thought with a hint of resignation: maybe he should just let these moments feel a little better while they lasted. Since this secret crush probably wouldn't have a happy ending anyway, he might as well enjoy it now. And… Margaret's lap really had felt incredibly comfortable.
Margaret had fallen asleep too, leaning back against the sofa. Her black hair stuck to her cheeks, with a few strands brushing the corner of her mouth, giving her an extra cute look.
Something inside his chest suddenly itched, like a light feather had landed there. Almost without thinking, Julian reached out his hand, slowly moving it closer to Margaret's face.
This felt way too bold for him, almost rude toward the girl. But it was like some invisible force was pushing him to try. This might be his only chance.
The girl's face was soft and smooth, her delicate skin feeling wonderful. Julian couldn't resist giving it a gentle pinch before he quickly realized he had gone too far and started to pull his hand back.
But Margaret had already opened her eyes. She grabbed the hand still on her face. Her expression showed a mix of surprise and teasing amusement. Thankfully, there was no anger—just like she had caught a naughty child messing around.
"Julian… I didn't expect you to be this bold. You actually just touched a girl's face like that." She held his hand tightly, as if keeping the evidence until she finished judging his crime.
"I-I-I… I just… Sorry. I couldn't help it. You looked really pretty while you were sleeping."
"Was it soft?"
"Huh?" Julian didn't catch up right away and paused. "Yeah… really soft and smooth."
"If it had been any other girl, you'd probably be getting slapped right about now."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. My bad."
"Well, it's a good thing it wasn't any other girl."
Margaret suddenly gave a warm smile and released his hand. She looked out the window at the pouring rain. The dense raindrops fell heavily through the air as the sky hung dark and murky.
She stared at the raging storm for a moment, suddenly hoping it would get even heavier and wouldn't stop—even if it flooded the entire world.
"Do you have an umbrella? I should probably head home."
"I have one I bought a long time ago. I'll go grab it. Not sure if it still works."
Julian went into his room to search and came back with a collapsible three-rib umbrella. The handle was a little rusty. He fumbled with it for a while before finally opening it up.
Two or three of the rusty metal ribs suddenly snapped, and a big section of the canopy collapsed. It was clearly unusable. Julian scratched his head, embarrassed. "This… probably won't work. How about you wait until the rain eases up a bit? Stay for dinner first."
"Okay."
Margaret walked over to the window. Clear droplets splattered against the glass where her palm pressed against it. Her clear eyes reflected the chaotic rainy scene.
"I'll cook dinner then, since I rarely get the chance."
"Sure, thanks."
Julian watched Margaret head into the kitchen, tie on an apron, and move around the small space with ease. He couldn't help picturing those typical family dinner scenes from TV—the husband back from work lounging on the sofa while the wife prepared dinner in the kitchen. It looked warm and perfect.
He was daydreaming again. Julian slapped his forehead, scolding himself for fantasizing. He had actually just pinched Margaret's cheek earlier—his impression with her had probably taken a serious hit.
After Margaret finished cooking, dinner was on the table. Neither of them said much as they ate in silence. The rain outside still hadn't let up. If anything, it sounded even heavier now.
The sky grew darker. Julian turned on the lights and said to Margaret, "The rain doesn't look like it's stopping anytime soon. If you don't mind, you can stay the night. You can take my room—I'll sleep in my parents' room."
He had no hidden intentions. He kept his tone polite, not wanting her to think he was trying anything. He cared a lot about how she saw him.
"Sure. Sorry for the trouble."
"I'll get some things ready for you to wash up."
Julian went into the bathroom. Two towels hung on the cracked white-tiled wall. The blue one was the one Isabella Lowell had used last time and had stayed clean ever since. He found a spare toothbrush and placed it on the windowsill before returning to the living room.
"You can use the blue towel. I got you a new toothbrush. Feel free to use my cup and toothpaste… Do you want to take a shower?"
There were only two towels in the house, and since Isabella had only used the blue one once, it wasn't a hygiene issue.
"Is that okay? Thanks."
"Body wash and shampoo are on the windowsill. Turn the knob to the right for hot water. For clothes…"
"I'll just wear what I have on. I can't exactly wear yours, right?"
"Yeah, true." Julian felt a little awkward. "I'll grab you some slippers."
He turned and took a pair of cotton slippers from the shoe cabinet, setting them by Margaret's feet. She untied her sneakers, slipped them off along with her lacy white mid-calf socks inside, revealing her slender, delicate ankles. Her snow-white skin looked incredibly smooth and soft.
She slid her feet into the slippers and walked into the bathroom with soft pattering steps.
Soon the sound of running water came from inside, clear and distinct from the rain outside, easily stirring up all kinds of thoughts.
Julian patted his face to stop his mind from wandering and pulled out his phone to read.
This was the second time recently a girl had showered at his house. Margaret's figure was a bit less developed than Isabella's—same slim waist and long legs, but her body still had that younger, more innocent look. In terms of chest, Isabella definitely had her beat.
Even so, Julian felt more nervous right now. He didn't like Margaret just for shallow reasons like looks or body, but it still added a few points to the image of the girl in his eyes.
The bathroom door opened. Margaret was still in the light gray hoodie and black casual pants she'd worn over. Her snow-white skin now carried a delicate pink flush, and a few damp strands of hair hung down her refined face.
"Want to sit for a while? Or go ahead and sleep? My room's that one." Julian pointed toward his bedroom door.
"I'll go to bed then. You go wash up. Sorry again for bothering you today."
"No problem. Oh, my charger's right by the bed. Your phone should work with it."
"Got it."
Margaret turned and went into Julian's room. Julian headed into the bathroom to wash up. The steam from earlier hadn't dissipated yet, filling the air with misty white vapor. The faint fresh scent of the girl still lingered.