Thalia woke to a heavy warmth draped over her waist. For a moment she forgot where she was until her eyes fluttered open and found Vicious, fast asleep against her shoulder, his arm locked around her as though she might vanish if he loosened his grip. His breath was soft against her skin, lashes grazing her collarbone with every quiet exhale.
Oh no.
She froze, trying to shift without waking him. His arm tightened immediately.
"You're awake," he murmured, voice low and rough from sleep.
"I—I need to get up," she whispered.
"No," he muttered into her neck, tightening his hold like a stubborn child. "Stay. Five more minutes."
"Vicious."
"Four," he bargained, eyes still closed.
She sighed, pushing his forehead gently. "Why are you like this?"
He stretched, watching her with a lazy heat in his eyes. "Because I like waking up like this."
She grabbed her blanket and stood, refusing to look at him.
"You look good in the morning," he added casually.
"Stop talking."
"I can't. You're cute when you pretend you don't like me."
"Pretend?"
He smirked. "Exactly."
Downstairs at breakfast, she tried to keep distance between them, hoping for a peaceful morning. But peace was never in Vicious' vocabulary. A hotel waiter approached with a bright smile.
"Good morning, madam. You look absolutely beautiful today."
Thalia blinked, startled. "Oh thank you."
Vicious' jaw clenched so hard she heard it.
"If you need anything—" the waiter began.
"That's enough," Vicious cut sharply.
The waiter paused. "Sir?"
"She doesn't need anything from you," Vicious growled. "Move."
The waiter stepped back quickly and left.
Thalia stared at him, irritation bubbling.
"Why would you talk to him like that?"
"Why was he smiling at you like that?"
"Because he was being nice!"
"He was flirting." His voice dropped. "I didn't like it."
"You don't own me."
"I know," he said quietly, "but I still didn't like it."
His honesty shook her more than his jealousy.
For the rest of the morning he didn't tease her. Didn't touch her. Barely spoke. He simply sat near her with a silence that felt louder than any argument, casting glances when he thought she wasn't looking glances full of longing and something that looked like hurt.
"Are you okay?" she whispered at one point.
"I'm fine," he said without looking at her.
"You're not."
"I said I'm fine, Thalia. Don't worry about me."
But she did.
When they arrived at the ancient site in Mexico, the grandeur of the ruins swept her into awe. The sun cast long shadows across the stone, and every detail seemed alive with history. Vicious moved ahead with confident ease, pointing out details she would have missed entirely.
"See that? That's a cenote—natural wells like this were sacred. People believed they connected the living world to the gods," he explained, voice low and deliberate.
Thalia's brow furrowed. "So, people just… jumped in? And swam?"
"Some, yes. Others offered sacrifices," he said casually, then smirked. "Don't look so horrified. You'd probably faint if you saw it."
"I might," she snapped, stepping closer. "Why do you always have to act like you know everything?"
"Because I do," he teased, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk that made her cheeks heat. "And because you look cute when you argue with me."
Thalia rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at her lips.
They wandered through the stones, Vicious explaining murals, carvings, the history woven into each structure. Every time she asked a question, he would answer, then tease her about something trivial a strand of hair, the way she squinted in the sun, the faint blush she couldn't quite hide.
At one point, as she leaned to examine a carving, he leaned over her shoulder, his warmth brushing hers.
"Careful," he whispered, voice low and intimate. "Wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you."
"I'm not a child," she muttered, but she didn't step back.
He smirked, letting the air between them hum with something unspoken. "Maybe not. But you're mine for the moment, and I can do what I like."
She glanced up at him, frustration and something else—something she wasn't ready to name mixing in her chest.
"Mine?" she scoffed.
"Just for now. Don't get any ideas yet," he said, voice teasing but edged with a seriousness that made her stomach flutter.
The ruins stretched wide beneath the sun, and the silence between them was thick, alive, charged. Birds chirped in the distance, light filtered through the leaves, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe.
She lifted her camera to take a picture, and Vicious stepped behind her, brushing her waist lightly as he pointed.
"Move a little to the left. Better angle."
"I know how to take a picture," she said, elbowing him lightly.
He smirked. "I'm trying to help."
"You're trying to annoy me."
"That too."
She clicked the photo and stepped back, pretending not to notice the quickened rhythm of her heart.
Later, they reached a secluded balcony overlooking the valley, a view so vast and green it made her chest ache.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"I knew you'd like it," he said, stepping beside her.
She glanced at him. "You brought me to see this because you know I will like it?"
"No," he said too quickly, then cleared his throat. "I mean yes. Maybe."
She smirked. "You're terrible at lying."
"And you're terrible at noticing when someone cares about you," he replied, eyes soft, unguarded.
Her lips parted, and before she could speak, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed her skin warm, intentional. Her stomach twisted.
"Victor…" she whispered.
"I'm not asking you for anything," he said quietly, stepping closer. "I just… want to stand here with you for a little while."
The sincerity in his voice made something inside her flutter soft, fragile, dangerous.
Thalia swallowed hard. "Okay."
He didn't touch her again. He didn't push. He didn't tease.
He just stood beside her, sharing the same view, the same silence, the same breath of wind.
And for the first time, the space between them didn't feel like a wall.
It felt like a beginning.