The engine went quiet.
Sophia opened the door first and stepped out carefully. Her heels touched the ground, but the moment she straightened up, a sharp pain shot through her ankle and up her leg.
“Ah—”
She winced, instinctively gripping the edge of the car door for support. Her weight shifted awkwardly as she tried to steady herself, but her injured leg trembled beneath her.
Magnus had already stepped out from the other side. As he came around the front of the car, his gaze immediately caught the strain on her face.
He closed the distance in a few quick steps. “What happened?” he asked sharply, lowering himself slightly as his eyes dropped to her leg. “Are you okay? Where does it hurt?”
His hand moved toward her ankle, noticing the faint redness already spreading across the skin.
Sophia drew in a small breath and forced herself to straighten. “I’m fine,” she said. “I just… twisted my foot earlier.”
She gave a dismissive wave of her hand, brushing off his concern. “It’s alright. I can go on my own. You can lea—”
She tried to take a step.
The moment her foot touched the ground, pain shot through her, flashing across her face as her body swayed.
Before she could fall, Magnus stepped in. Without a word, he bent down and slipped one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.
Sophia let out a soft gasp, her hands instinctively clutching his shoulder. “What are you doing—”
“Why do you insist on making things harder for yourself?” he said, his voice dropping as he carried her forward. “Or is this your way of testing my patience?”
Sophia frowned at him but didn’t argue further, partly because arguing required more energy than she currently had.
He climbed the steps steadily and stopped in front of the door. Sophia reached out, her fingers pressing against the lock. There was a soft click, and the door opened.
Magnus walked in without hesitation.
The high ceiling above the living room held a striking floral design stretching across the square panels. Bright colors filled the room—polka-dotted cushions scattered across the couches, patterned throws draped casually over the armrests, and bold, colorful paintings decorating the walls.
It was lively.
Warm.
Magnus carried her straight to the couch and carefully lowered her down.
The moment he stepped back, Sophia hurriedly tried to adjust her dress. During the lift, the fabric had shifted awkwardly, and as she pulled it down—
Riiip.
The faint sound of fabric tearing made her freeze.
Her eyes widened in horror.
The side of the dress had split slightly, exposing her leg. Flustered, she immediately grabbed the fabric and tried to pull it closed, covering herself.
Magnus’s gaze lifted to her face. One corner of his lips curved slightly as his hand settled on her hip.
“Relax,” he said calmly. “I’m not going to look at something you’re not willing to show me yourself.”
“Stop it,” Sophia snapped, glaring at him while pressing the torn fabric against her leg.
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
