Did you save someone?

Francisco stood at a distance, hidden behind the lush foliage that bordered the garden. His eyes were fixed on Hazel, who moved gracefully within the glass house.

As in the garden there were no cameras, so he could not see what she was doing.

The sight of her pushing her hair behind her ear captured his attention, and a subtle smirk played on his lips.

At that moment, Hazel embodied an unexpected allure, her presence magnetic even from afar. Francisco couldn't deny the intrigue she stirred within him.

As he observed her from the shadows, Francisco contemplated the layers beneath Hazel's exterior. The light blue frock accentuated her form, adding softness to her silhouette. The glass house, with its warm glow, served as a backdrop to this clandestine spectacle.

'Hazel!'

'How many times are you going to surprise me?'

He mused inwardly, his thoughts a swirl of conflicting emotions. She had managed to surprise him once again.

He slowly started walking and halted behind her.

Francisco observed Hazel's reaction as she turned around, her delicate fingers dancing on the velvety petals of a rose.

The serenity of the garden seemed to complement her, creating a picturesque moment that captivated even him. But their brief encounter took an unexpected turn as Hazel, lost in her exploration, collided with Francisco.

"Oh, I did not know. I am sorry, Mr. Francisco," as Hazel said, she stepped back and lowered her head.

"Do you like the garden?" he inquired, his voice a low murmur that carried an unusual tenderness.

"Ah,,,"

Hazel, still recovering from the unexpected encounter, managed a small, genuine smile.

"Yes, Mr. Francisco, it is beautiful."

"Actually, it is peaceful too," she continued.

"At least I get some privacy here."

Francisco, curious yet cautious, arched an eyebrow in response.

"Did anyone disturb you last night?" he inquired, his voice a low murmur.

Hazel's swift head-shake denied any intrusion.

"No... no. No one disturbed me last night."

A knowing smile played on Francisco's lips as he leaned in, revealing a piece of information that added a layer of complexity to their interaction.

"Actually, your whole mansion is full of cameras."

Francisco, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, was about to speak when Hazel beat him to it.

"I am not used to these surroundings. So I feel peaceful here," she confessed, her sincerity evident in her gaze.

Francisco, a man accustomed to veiling his emotions, tilted his head, hands clasped behind his back.

Hazel, seizing the moment, decided to lay bare a part of her plan that had been concealed until now.

"I know you are an important man in our city, and it is necessary for your safety."

Her words seemed to touch a chord within him, and a genuine smile softened Francisco's features.

Abruptly, Francisco extended his hand, a silent invitation. Without waiting for permission, he gently held Hazel's palm in his, a gesture both unexpected and oddly intimate.

Hazel, in a bold departure from her usual reserve, did not resist.

Francisco, adorned in a crisp white shirt, exuded an undeniable charm. His silky hair brushed against his forehead, adding an air of casual elegance.

Francisco's thumb gently rubbing against her skin.

"Hazel!"

Francisco, with an air of nonchalance, broached an unexpected topic.

"Did you ever go to the hill to camp?"

Hazel, taken aback by the abrupt change in conversation, narrowed her eyes in suspicion. The unexpected question left her surprised.

"Why, Mr. Francisco?"

In response, Francisco urged her to simplify her answer, "Can't you answer it with a yes or no?"

Hazel hesitated, her voice stumbling over the words, "Ah… I did."

As if sensing her unease, Francisco continued his tactile exploration of her hand, his fingers tracing hers delicately.

"Did something unusual happen?" he asked, his words carrying a quiet intensity.

Hazel, now on guard, arched her brows in response to his probing question.

"Why are you asking this?"

Her voice, though stern, betrayed a hint of nervousness.

As Francisco stepped closer, Hazel felt her heart quicken with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Questions swirled in her mind like the tempest, each one more perplexing than the last.

'Does he know everything?'

'Why does he ask this suddenly?'

'And how does he know once I went to camp on the hill?'

"Again, you are asking me questions," Francisco remarked.

For a moment, she averted her gaze, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The weight of unspoken truths hung in the air, and Hazel grappled with the decision to reveal a part of her past that she had kept hidden.

'I think I should tell the truth.'

'Though at that time we were under attack by gangsters.'

"Once I went there for a camp. It was just a family tour, and at that time we were under attack by some terrorists."

She finally confessed.

"I got lost in the forest. There was a lot of shooting, screaming, chaos spreading in just a few minutes. I won't forget that night. There were also some college students too."

The truth spilled from her lips, but in the midst of it, a subtle lie lingered — the fabrication that she had been on a family tour.

As Francisco gently squeezed Hazel's hand, he posed a question that delved into the depths of her past.

"Did you save anyone?" he asked, his eyes fixed on hers.

Hazel, momentarily transported back to the harrowing night on the hill, met his gaze and nodded.

"Yes, I saved a lot of people that time. And that moment was really horrible. Those memories still horrify me. A lot of people were injured at that time. It was a terrible night."

"It was a massacre," Hazel added, her eyes reflecting the pain etched in her memories.

"That's all?" Francisco inquired, his gaze searching hers for untold stories.

Hazel, offering an awkward smile, responded, "Ah, yes!"

"But," she began, her voice carrying a hint of emotion, "that night, a boy saved my life. Actually, he got shot trying to save me. But after that, I tried to get information about him, and he vanished. I wanted to say thank you for saving my life, but it seemed he was gone."

A subtle smile played on Francisco's lips as he absorbed her words.

'At least she did not forget me.'

"Did you see his face clearly?"

Hazel pressed and said, "No, not clearly."