CHAPTER 448: ROSE WITH THORNS (9)

"But you—!"

"Shhh." He raised an eyebrow. "You’re making too much noise, pheasant girl."

Rose stared at him, completely red in the face. Her arms awkwardly wrapped around his neck, trying not to fall. His body was warm. Strong. And the way he held her like she weighed nothing... was infuriatingly swoon-worthy.

"...Thank you," she mumbled against his shoulder, annoyed by how fast her heart was beating.

"Hmm? What was that?" he teased, his breath brushing against her ear.

"I said don’t drop me," she grumbled.

Loki chuckled, low and soft. "Don’t worry. I wouldn’t drop something so precious."

And Rose, who never blushed easily, wanted the sidewalk to swallow her whole.

The rest of the walk was silent, except for the soft sound of his boots against the pavement and the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears.

She didn’t realize it, but Loki had the smallest, most satisfied smile on his lips the entire way back.

***

The next morning, Rose was getting ready for work. She wore a soft beige blouse tucked into a navy skirt, her long dark hair tied loosely, giving her a fresh, professional look. She checked the time on her phone and sighed. Her heels clicked softly on the floor as she walked toward the living room where Loki was lazily sprawled out on the couch, flipping channels on the TV.

"I’m going for work," Rose said, grabbing her coat and bag, "You can do anything... but please don’t destroy my house. I’ll be back around six or seven, okay?"

Loki looked up from the TV, eyes narrowing slightly as he admired her.

"Alright!!" he grinned, waving a hand.

Rose narrowed her eyes, "And order food. Don’t beg neighbors. I’m serious." She rolled her eyes and walked out the door.

As soon as the door closed, Loki sighed dramatically. "Boring human schedule..." he muttered. The TV didn’t hold his attention long. After a while, he grew bored, stood up, and with a deep breath, shifted into his original form.

In a flash of light and a shimmer of smoke, he became a cat—a bit larger than average, with sleek, dark fur and golden eyes that shimmered like jewels. His clothes fell to the ground around him as he stretched his limbs and tail. It felt good to shift after so long..

With graceful steps, he leaped onto the table, then to the couch, then trotted toward Rose’s room.

Once there, he shifted back into human form—completely naked, but he didn’t seem to care. He walked slowly, curiously scanning her belongings. Her perfume, her hair ties, books, small sketchpad... everything in here smelled like her.

His eyes fell on a photo frame on her nightstand. He picked it up slowly.

It was an old photo... Rose was smiling, young and carefree, holding a black cat in her arms.

His golden eyes widened. It was him.

A soft, slow breath escaped his lips.

He didn’t expect that. He never knew she had kept this.

A flicker of emotion stirred inside him—something he hadn’t felt in a long time. His chest ached. His fingers tightened around the frame.

Suddenly, a quiet thought entered his mind.

I miss her.

Without wasting time, he dressed in one of the new outfits Rose had bought him and messaged Elder Sister Lilith asking for Rose’s office location. Lilith responded with the address and added a teasing line:

"Try not to destroy her workplace, okay?"

He didn’t reply.

Loki walked to the K&J company, a sleek glass building that stood tall in the city. The guards at the front entrance didn’t let him through at first.

"I’m here to see my friend," he said firmly. "Her name is Rose. She works here."

The guard raised an eyebrow, a little doubtful—until he really looked at him. Even in casual clothes, Loki had the kind of face that turned heads. His golden-brown eyes, sharp jawline, and relaxed posture made him look like some undercover celebrity.

The guard blinked. "Hold on, I’ll check with her office."

Moments later, the office phone rang. Rose picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Miss Rose... someone named Loki is downstairs. Says he knows you."

Her eyes widened. "What?!"

She rushed to the front of the building, her heels clicking rapidly against the marble floor.

And there he was.

Standing under the sunlight pouring through the glass doors, looking tall and charming and wildly out of place in a corporate building. He wasn’t grinning this time. He looked at her like he’d been waiting for hours.

"Loki?? What are you doing here—"

Before she could finish, he walked straight toward her and pulled her into a hug. A full, tight, desperate hug.

Her coworkers nearby froze in shock. One girl whispered loudly, "Who is that??" Another just stared, blushing at the sight.

But Loki didn’t care.

He didn’t let go.

He buried his face into the crook of her neck and sighed.

"I missed you," he whispered.

Rose stood still, her heart thudding. She didn’t know what to say. She slowly raised her arms and awkwardly placed them around him. "L-Loki...?"

He hugged her tighter.

"I just... missed you," he mumbled again. "You left for hours."

"You’re so clingy," Rose muttered, cheeks turning pink.

"I don’t care."

And for a moment, despite the curious eyes around them, the whole world felt quiet.

***

If someone had told Rose a month ago that a tall, arrogant, lazy, golden-eyed man would turn her peaceful apartment upside down — she would’ve laughed. But now?

She wasn’t laughing.

From the moment she agreed to let him stay, everything began to change.

Her daily routines, once quiet and neat, now came with heavy footsteps pacing the hallway, dramatic sighs from the couch, and someone calling, "Pheasant girl, where’s my coffee?" like he owned the place.

And what annoyed her the most?

He’d gotten comfortable. Too comfortable.

He knew exactly how to lounge on her couch like a smug prince, flipping channels as if he paid the bills. He’d figured out the settings of her washing machine better than she had. He’d even started leaving his jackets on the dining chair — and worst of all, she hadn’t kicked him out for it.

She found herself... adjusting to him.

When she’d return from work, tired and wanting silence, he’d be there — not talking much, just existing with her. Sometimes watching TV, sometimes reading her romance novels out loud in a ridiculous voice that made her laugh no matter how hard she tried not to.

And he always noticed things.

Like when she skipped meals because of work. He’d show up at her desk with ramen and say, "Don’t starve and die, you weak human. I hate sad funerals."

Or when she looked too tired, he’d casually drape a blanket over her legs without a word and pretend it never happened.

But what really started to mess with her was—

The clinging.

It began with lazy head-leaning on her shoulder during movie nights.

Then came the cuddles. Oh, the cuddles.

One night, he sprawled across the couch and casually placed his head on her lap. "You’re warm," he mumbled like it was the most normal thing in the world.

She wanted to push him off, scold him, remind him they were not that close.

But her hands somehow found their way into his hair.

Just brushing through those silky dark strands as he purred softly — yes, he literally purred. And she didn’t stop.

Each day, she found herself doing more for him.

He liked mango juice, so she stocked it.

He didn’t like loud alarm clocks, so she set it softly now.

She let him sleep in on Sundays, even when he took all the pillows like a selfish prince.

And her heart — her poor heart — began to flutter in ways she didn’t expect.

One night, when she entered the apartment with her heels clicking softly, she found him in the kitchen — trying to cook rice.

He’d worn her apron. Backwards.

And the kitchen smelled like burnt soy sauce and disaster.

"What are you doing?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Trying to be romantic," he grumbled, not meeting her eyes. "Your dramas always have men who cook for their women. So I thought... why not me?"

Rose stared at him.

He dropped the spoon and added quickly, "Not that I like you or anything."

"...Are you twelve?"

"No. I’m eternal."

And that night, she didn’t scold him. She laughed. A lot.

They ended up ordering food and sitting on the floor in front of the TV, their shoulders brushing, her head slowly resting on his.

And for a second, everything was soft.

Dangerously soft.

Rose didn’t know when her heart stopped resisting.

But every time he looked at her with those sharp, unreadable eyes... every time he called her "my annoying pheasant girl"... and every time he smiled like she was his entire world—

She felt it.

Her life was changing.

And maybe... she didn’t mind.

However, Rose began to feel something wasn’t right. She had a feeling he was hiding something from her....