He was breathtaking. Sunlight glinted off dark hair dampened slightly by the morning mist, and his eyes… her green eyes met his with an intensity that stole her breath away. There was a sharpness to his gaze, but also a calm, measured confidence that made her heart race.
He stopped a few feet away, observing her quietly. Then, slowly, he bent down to her level, keeping his gaze locked on hers.
"Who… are you, caught up in my fishing net?" His voice was deep, calm, carrying authority but not cruelty.
Lyra didn't answer. She simply stared at him, her green eyes wide, still hidden beneath the damp fishing net, unsure if she should speak or stay silent.
"What are you doing… on my boat?" he asked again, slightly amused, his eyes scanning her as if weighing her carefully.She struggled against the net, trying to free herself, but it clung to her, heavy and wet.
"Stop struggling," he said, his tone firm. "Hold on, I'll help you."
"What are you doing? Let me go!" she protested, panic rising in her chest. Her hands flailed, but he held her firmly, his grip strong yet careful, not harsh.
"You should hold on," he commanded again, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'll help you with the net." Reluctantly, her hands stilled as he gently untangled the fishing net from around her head and shoulders. Each movement was precise, careful, yet commanding. Finally, the net fell away, pooling wetly around her feet, leaving her face and hair free.
She looked up at him fully now. He was tall, well-built, with broad shoulders and the kind of hands that seemed made for strength and work.
And their eyes met again longer, sharper this time as if the storm outside and the chase had been leading to this very moment.
Lyra's breath caught. Her pulse raced. For a fleeting second, nothing existed except the two of them, locked in silence, on the rocking boat in the quiet harbor.
Finally, he released her arm. She blinked, suddenly feeling exposed and small under his unwavering gaze. Without another word, Kairos returned to the helm, steering the boat forward, leaving Lyra standing there, her heart still racing, anger and fear tangled with the strange pull she felt toward him.
Lyra tugged at the ropes of the fishing net still tangled around the deck, her voice sharp and pleading."Turn the boat around! Take me back to the dock!" she demanded, her green eyes flashing with urgency. "My family… they'll be worried!"
Kairos Vale didn't look back. His hands remained steady on the wheel as he shook his head. "No. I'm not turning around. I have things to do."
Lyra's chest tightened. She couldn't believe his calm refusal. She took a step toward him, trying to assert control, her small hands pushing against his broad frame. He barely flinched, his dark eyes fixed on the horizon.
She followed him as he moved back to the helm, each step hesitant but determined. "I have to go back! My family… they're probably worried sick!" she said, her voice rising, tinged with desperation.
Kairos barely glanced at her. "This is my boat," he said quietly, but firmly. "You can't tell me what to do."
She stopped, frustration boiling over. "And why are you on my boat in the first place?!" he demanded, his hands still gripping the wheel. "Why were you hiding?"
He finally turned to look at her, the intensity in his gaze pinning her in place. Lyra's face flushed. "It's none of your business!" she shot back, her chest rising with every breath.
Kairos's eyes bore into hers, unrelenting. "It's my business because you're on my boat," he replied, his tone calm, absolute.
For a long, tense moment, neither spoke. The world seemed to shrink until there was nothing but the rocking boat, the spray of water, and the intensity of their stare. Every second stretched, charged with unspoken questions, frustration, and something far more dangerous a spark neither of them could deny.