Bella’s lips parted, then pressed together in defeat. She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded ekly, her expression sowhere between guilty and sulky.
Satisfied, Leo handed her the tablet back. "Good girl," he murmured, watching as she obediently slipped it into her bag and zipped it shut.
The silence that followed was warm and filled with the soft hum of the plane. Bella shifted slightly, her fingers fidgeting, and then—clearly unable to sit still—she reached for his hand.
Leo glanced down in surprise but said nothing. Her tiny hand looked almost lost against his much larger one. She turned it over curiously, tracing the lines on his palm with her fingertip, then lifted her hand to asure it against his.
Her fingers barely reached the base of his, and she pouted softly. "Your hands are huge..." she murmured, half in wonder.
Leo’s lips twitched, amused by her fascination. "You only realized that now?" he asked, his voice deep and teasing.
She ignored the teasing tone and pressed her hand against his again, determined to compare properly this ti. The size difference was almost ridiculous–her small, delicate hand swallowed by his broad palm and long fingers.
He watched her quietly, the faintest smirk forming as her thumb brushed against his skin. "You keep playing with them like that," he said lowly, his tone dropping just enough to make her pulse skip, "and I’ll start thinking you like them too much."
Bella’s breath caught. "W-what? I was just comparing!" she said quickly, her cheeks turning pink as she tried to pull her hand away.
But Leo caught her fingers gently before she could. His grip was firm but not forceful, his thumb tracing slow circles on the back of her hand. "Comparing?" he murmured, leaning just slightly closer. "Then tell , Bunny... which one do you like better—yours or mine?"
Her heart fluttered wildly, and she ducked her head, mumbling, "Mine..."
"Hmm." He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing along her knuckles before letting her go. "You lie terribly, you know that?"
Bella turned away, her face bright red, but her lips curved into a shy smile. The plane humd gently around them, and Leo leaned back in his seat again, his expression unreadable but his eyes wandered on her a mont longer, drinking in the sight of her flustered little face under the soft cabin light.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
anwhile, Jay was practically shaking with excitent the mont he stepped through the front door. He had been thinking about Bella Bell’s secret all the way ho.
"Aunty C! Where is Bella Bell?" he called out, his voice echoing through the hall as he half-jogged toward the living room, his usual energy filling the space.
Aunt Clara looked up from arranging fresh flowers in a vase, her eyes twinkling with amusent. "Haha, sir and ma’am actually went out together sowhere!" she said with a soft chuckle.
Jay’s entire face fell. His shoulders slumped as if soone had just stolen his candy. "Argh! Again?!" he groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. "Bro is taking Bella out more often and daily now. People go on dates twice or maybe once a month, and he takes Bella almost every day! Every. Single. Day!"
He threw his arms in the air, pacing restlessly. "Who would’ve thought my cold, scary, no-nonsense brother would turn into such a romantic?! Unbelievable!" he muttered, looking genuinely betrayed. "Next thing I know, he’ll be writing poetry!"
"Baby chick?"
Jay froze mid-complaint. That voice. That dangerous, sweet, deceptively gentle voice.
He turned around slowly....and sure enough, there she was.
"Nonna?!" he yelped, eyes wide. "What are you doing here?!"
Nonna stood at the entrance in her floral shawl, her silver hair coiled into a perfect bun, her handbag swinging on one arm with elegance and authority. "Well," she said, smiling brightly, "I’ve been in this city for my club work. But I just ca here to find my little granddaughter-in-law."
Jay blinked. "Well, then... sorry to disappoint you, Nonna, but they both went out," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Nonna’s smile faded slightly, her face scrunching in displeasure. "Tch. Always going out without telling . That big boy doesn’t even call anymore."
Jay let out an awkward chuckle, trying to change the topic. "Uh, so, Nonna, how have you been?"
"Boy, how are your injuries?" she asked suddenly, her sharp eyes zeroing in on the bandages around his hands.
Jay sighed, lifting his wrapped arms helplessly. "They’re fine now, really. I’m good, Nonna."
"Are you free right now?" she asked, her tone light and casual—too casual.
Jay hesitated. "Well... yes?"
And that was when the alarm bells went off in his head. He had known this tone for years. It was the sa tone she used before dragging him into terrifying family yoga sessions or making him taste-test her "miracle tonics."
"Great!" Nonna said with sudden enthusiasm, her face lighting up like she had just found a treasure. "Let’s go, dear! You don’t even have to move your arms. My club mbers are looking for volunteers to test our new hair oil! You’re perfect!"
Jay’s smile vanished. "N-No! Nonna, my—my hands hurt, you know? The doctor said no stress, no experints, no oil, nothing!" he stamred, already backing away.
Nonna’s expression shifted from sweet to sharp in an instant, her brows arching in that unmistakable grandmotherly warning. "You’re saying no?" she asked slowly, her tone strict and terrifyingly calm.
Jay froze, hands half-raised like he was facing a wild animal. "N-No, Nonna! I would never say no to you! I—I was just saying my head might not be ready for, uh... miracle transformation!"
She narrowed her eyes. "Good. Because your hair transformation will be glowing and beautiful by tonight."
Jay’s face turned pale. He knew that look—he had no escape.
Nonna and her old club mbers always made pure organic oils, but the mixture was so thick, the sll so strange, that it lingered for weeks in his hair. And he hated that sticky feeling more than anything.
He groaned quietly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Every ti I see her, sothing bad happens to my hair," he muttered under his breath, but Nonna was already smiling proudly, leading him toward the door.
Jay followed her like a man walking toward his doom.
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