CHAPTER 59: NOT SO PURE INTENTIONS

But even though Mika has such a line with confidence it still felt quite awkward to say something as embarrassing as that to someone who was basically his maternal figure in his life, so he quickly added to reduce the awkwardness,

"But really, though. It makes sense as to why Charlotte looks the way she does. She got her looks from you. She should be thankful for that."

Hearing this, Yelena’s chest puffed slightly with pride as she nodded.

"Exactly! That girl better thank her mama every single day...Without me, she wouldn’t have even qualified to compete with the other girls for you."

Then, with a playful smirk tugging at her lips, she added,

"Speaking of other girls...you’ve really become quite the charmer, haven’t you? Not that you weren’t before."

"Even back then, you were constantly surrounded by girls, especially with Charlotte’ sisters. Always giggling, always trailing behind you like ducklings."

"...I don’t think you even had a single male friend, now that I think about it. Just girls. All the time. Everywhere."

She then glanced at him now with a teasingly mysterious look in her eye, like she was pondering something...something mildly scandalous.

"But even now..." She continued. "You’ve gotten worse. Or better, depending on how you look at it. You’ve really honed your craft. That ability of yours to charm people?...Unbelievable."

"You say the sweetest things without even blinking, like calling me beautiful just now, as if it’s as easy as breathing. A normal person would hesitate. They’d fumble or blush or second-guess...But you?"

"You just say it, all smooth and silky, like it’s nothing...Makes me wonder where you even learned it."

Mika instantly shot back with a grin. "From you, of course."

She blinked. "Me? When did I teach you to trick women with empty words?"

"You didn’t teach me to seduce anyone." He said, shaking his head. "But you did teach me to treat girls kindly. You always told me to say nice things to girls, make them feel seen, appreciated, like princesses."

"...You drilled it into my head: be respectful, be gentle, be thoughtful. That’s all you. You basically raised me to be a gentleman."

Yelena chuckled, narrowing her eyes. "I don’t know if I should be proud or worried. Did I raise a gentleman...or just a playboy?"

And that was his cue. Mika leaned in just slightly, finding his moment. His voice dropped to a whisper as he breathed into her ear.

"So if I’m such a charmer now...does that mean what I just said made your heart skip a beat?"

He watched her carefully, searching her expression for any flicker of change. Something different...Something more.

But Yelena, ever disarming, only smiled brighter.

"Of course it did." She said with a warm laugh, reaching behind to gently caress his cheek. "Anything from my darling boy makes my heart skip. Just looking at you makes it race. You’re my sweet, precious Mika...and you have no idea just how much I love you."

She tilted her head back affectionately, stumbling slightly against him, still wearing that radiant, loving smile.

And Mika smiled back...but then let out a long, quiet sigh.

He knew those words were sincere. From the heart. But they were the words of a guardian. Of someone who loved him like a son. Who coddled him like a child.

Not like a man...Not like the love of her life.

And that stung more than he expected.

’This isn’t going to be easy.’ He thought. ’All those years she’s looked at me this way...how am I supposed to make her see me differently? As a man? As someone she could fall for?’

But then he shook his head, refusing to wallow. Instead, he leaned in again with mischief in his voice.

"Hey...this might upset you." He murmured, grinning. "But I’ve been holding this in for a long time and just don’t want to lie anymore."

Yelena’s brow raised slightly in curiosity.

"I just want to say that I never really liked those old vintage movies you used to put on." He confessed. "Back then, I was still a kid. I just didn’t get them. I preferred cartoons like any other normal child."

"...Of course, later on I grew to love them. But when I was a kid, I really struggled to get through those movies."

And then he paused, watching her closely, absolutely expecting a exaggerated reaction, maybe even a gasp, or an offended pout, to tease her and soak in her response.

But to Mika’s surprise, she didn’t do any of the dramatic things he was expecting. No offended gasp. No "how dare you!" face.

Not even the exaggerated pout she often pulled when teasing.

Instead, she simply looked up at him with that soft, disarming smile, the kind that said she already knew. The kind that made his heart skip even before she spoke.

"Oh that..." She whispered. "I already knew about that."

Mika blinked. "...Y-You do?"

She nodded gently. "Of course I do. I’ve known for a long time now that you never really liked those vintage movies."

His eyes widened and she she smiled, looking almost amused at his shock.

"What? You thought I didn’t notice, Mika? Please. Not even my sisters liked those old films. They all said they were ’too ancient’ or ’too slow.’ So it was pretty obvious that a kid like you back then wouldn’t magically enjoy them."

"...You were forcing yourself to watch them, weren’t you?"

Mika’s mouth opened slightly but no words came out. She had nailed it so precisely it was scary.

"And every time we sat on the couch to watch one..." She continued, her voice like a soft breeze. "You’d look so confused at parts that weren’t supposed to be confusing. Or you’d stare at the screen like it had personally offended you. You looked bored out of your mind sometimes and you didn’t even try to hide it."

Mika rubbed the back of his neck, inwardly cursing his younger self’s expression management.

"And so I’ve always wondered..." She said, cocking her head slightly. "Why did you keep watching with me? You could’ve just said no. Why would you want to sit through something you clearly didn’t enjoy?"

He was about to answer, but she beat him to it.

"But then I realized..." She said, her arms wrapping a little tighter around his waist. "You weren’t doing it for the movie. You did it for me."

His breath caught, while she looked back at him, and this time, the smile was tinged with something tender, something achingly sweet.

"No one in the family liked vintage movies except me. I was always the one staying up late watching them alone, even Charlotte didn’t feel like joining me no matter how much I begged her for company."

"And you...you couldn’t bear to see me like that."

He turned his face away slightly, cheeks already warming.

"You felt sorry for me, didn’t you?" She asked softly. "You couldn’t stand seeing me so alone. So you sat beside me, even if it meant suffering through long, boring scenes and black-and-white love stories you didn’t care for...Just so I wouldn’t feel alone."

Seeing that he was completely exposed, he groaned lightly and slouched forward, resting his forehead against her shoulder.

"Ugh...what a letdown." He muttered. "Here I thought I was some secret hero, valiantly saving you from your loneliness. I thought I was doing a noble deed." He groaned again. "Of course you figured it all out. I should’ve known you’d piece it together. What was I even thinking?"

Yelena giggled softly and rubbed his cheek, brushing a lock of hair back. "No. You were a hero to me."

She then looked at him with a warmth that melted straight into his chest.

"Just knowing someone loved me enough to do that...that they would willingly sit through hours of stuff they didn’t like, just so I wouldn’t be alone? That meant the world to me, Mika. It really did."

"And let me just say that after you joined me, those nights weren’t about the movies anymore. After a while, I’d stop watching altogether. I’d just...sneak glances at you."

He lifted his head, blinking. "Huh?"

"Your reactions were so much better than the films." She said with a nostalgic chuckle. "Watching you struggle to make sense of the plot, or roll your eyes during long monologues...it was the best part of my night."

Mika stared at her.

"And I kept thinking." She continued, brushing his hair gently. "How lucky I was. How lucky I was that when even my own daughter didn’t want to spend time with her mother...you did."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she leaned in and kissed his cheek gently.

"Thank you, my little hero." She whispered. "Thank you for saving me from those lonely nights."

Hearing this, witnessing the loving way he was looking at him like he was her world and feeling the warmth on his cheeks, Mika’s face turned a deep shade of red.

And it wasn’t just from the kiss or the way she gazed at him, which in itself was enough to catch him off guard because it had come from Yelena.

You see, if it had been Charlotte, or even some other girl, he might’ve brushed it off with a smirk or teasing comment.

But with Yelena, it was entirely different.

He had loved her for as long as he could remember, in that strange, aching way that never quite made sense to anyone else, and maybe not even to him. And when it came to her, even the smallest gestures felt like earthquakes in his chest.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love Charlotte, but her kisses, those playful, bold moments, he could handle. He was usually the one in control with her, the one who teased and led.

But with Yelena, that balance shattered completely.

A single kiss on the cheek from her, and suddenly he was the flustered one, his thoughts spinning out of control.

And yet, that wasn’t even the most embarrassing part.

What made him want to bury his face into her silky hair and never emerge again was the truth she hadn’t figured out, the part she hadn’t said.

Yes, he had joined her for those late-night movies because he felt sorry for her, because he didn’t want her to be alone.

But back then...that wasn’t the only reason.

The truth was far less noble.

Back then, he’d been a mess of hormones and immature desires, more monkey than man, really, and part of him had actually simply wanted to press himself close to her.

To "accidentally" cling to her when a scary scene played, or lean his head on her shoulder when something emotional happened, all while secretly relishing how soft and warm she felt. He used any excuse to cuddle up beside her, shamelessly soaking in every second.

And he wasn’t subtle...Not even a little.

He’d always try to sit beside her. Always. He’d wedge himself close, until their thighs were flush and her arm was against his, and then he’d throw the blanket over both of them like a hungry animal marking territory.

She thought he was being sweet. That he liked the cozy feeling.

But underneath that blanket?

He was touching. Exploring. Pretending.

His fingers would start at the hem of her nightshirt, just "adjusting" the blanket, and then they’d slip...a little higher. Brushing the curve of her hip. The inside of her thigh. His heart would pound so hard he could barely breathe, but he kept going.

Sometimes, when she laughed and leaned back, her chest would bounce softly, gently brushing against his arm or his cheek, and it was agony. Delicious, mind-breaking agony. He’d press his palm against his lap, trying to hide the painful hardness growing under the covers.

She never noticed...Not once.

One night, during a horror film, he faked a jump so dramatically that he ended up halfway in her lap. She let out a small gasp, then laughed and stroked his hair like he was a scared puppy.

But Mika?...He buried his face between her breasts and nearly whimpered. Her warmth, the scent of her skin, the rise and fall of her chest...he thought he might die from how badly he wanted her.

And the worst part?

She hugged him back. Genuinely. Lovingly. Whispering. "It’s okay, I’m here," like she was comforting a child.

He nearly came in his pants.

There were nights he’d even fake being cold just so she’d press herself closer.

Nights he’d sigh deeply during emotional scenes just to grab her waist and pull her flush against him.

Nights he pretended to fall asleep on her shoulder so he could "accidentally" shift, nuzzling into her breasts and pressing his hardened length against her thigh, praying, begging, that she wouldn’t notice.

But she never did...Not once. She just thought he was just sweet. Innocent. Her little protector.

And now, here she was, thanking him.

Thanking him for "saving her from those lonely nights."

Mika wanted to scream. Not from guilt, but from sheer embarrassment. He’d been a horny little devil wrapped in a blanket of fake innocence, using every trick in the book to cuddle up to the woman he wanted more than anyone, and she’d never seen it coming.

He wanted to go back in time and slap himself, and maybe high-five himself too, because it had worked.

But now, with her looking at him like he was some heroic, pure-hearted boy, he felt like a fraud with a raging pulse and a thousand wicked memories flashing behind his eyes.

And worse, some very wicked thoughts bubbling up again...