The mornings inside the Bryant estate were quiet, but inside Samuel’s room, there was always some kind of noise, mostly Grace bustling around with trays, clinking plates, or muttering to herself when he teased her.
This morning was no different.
Grace walked in with a tray balanced carefully in her hands. The smell of toast and eggs filled the room. Samuel was sitting up by the window, his hair messy from sleep. He turned his head slowly when she entered.
“You didn’t wait for the helper?” Grace asked, her voice half-scolding.
“I was waiting for you,” Samuel answered smoothly.
Grace stopped mid-step. “…You really don’t get tired of saying things like that, do you?”
His lips curved slightly. “No.”
She rolled her eyes and placed the tray on the small table beside him. She set out the teacups, poured him some tea, and pushed the plate closer. The whole time, Samuel’s gaze followed her movements.
When she finally looked up, she found him staring.
