My Beloved Has Risen from Death’s Embrace

It took him a moment before he finally smiled and stood up, heading towards the bathroom.

Xanthea was startled by his indescribable, eerie smile.

As she watched his retreating figure, she couldn’t help but recall his reaction when she invited him to her engagement ceremony in Willowdale. Back then, he seemed to have suffered a devastating blow, but now he radiated an unbelievable joy.

“Orion, what’s going on?”

She hurried after him, only to see a closed door and the sound of running water inside.

The cold water drenched his hair, streaming down his well–defined face and onto his broad chest, soaking through his suit and tingling every nerve and cell in his body.

It was true.

Everything was real, not an illusion.

He had always thought Xan loved Matthew with all her life, which is why from their childhood days, she was always glued to him, sharing every sorrow and joy of her life with him, all the thoughtfully planned surprises and gifts were prepared for him alone, and she would shield him from any danger without a second thought.

So he never dared get close to her, never dared hope she would even glance his way.

But now she was telling him, she didn’t care for Matthew as much as he thought!

“Bang-”

He struck the wall with a heavy punch, stirring up a spray of water droplets.

Extreme regret and joy intertwined, leaving him overwhelmed by his emotions. If only he had known earlier.

Hearing the loud noise, Xanthea grew anxious. She pressed her ear against the bathroom door, “Orion, are you alright? Did you fall?”

On the misty mirror, he wiped away the water droplets, revealing a face that had completely for off its disguise and restraint.

From now on, Xan would be his and his alone.

“Orion, if you don’t come out soon, I’ll just go in.”

Xanthea, becoming anxious, was about to open the door when Orion came out.

He had changed into a brand–new white suit, looking fresh and refined, with no hint of anything amiss, except for his slightly damp hair.

“Did you take a shower?” This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

Why would he suddenly take a shower while eating? And why the impeccable dress–up at home?

It was the first time she saw him in a white suit, and it was somewhat captivating, like a noble prince from an ancient castle, stunningly handsome.

12:24

Unconsciously, Xanthea swallowed,

“Yeah, got a bit of kitchen grease on me.”

So his need for cleanliness had kicked in, no wonder his expression looked so weird. Just like Cedric said. he was a perfectionist for cleanliness.

Orion looked at her hand on the bathroom doorknob, “Xannie, were you trying to come in and join me?”

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Xanthea jolted, instantly releasing her grip, “Who wants to shower with you? I was just worried you might have an accident in there. Quickly dry your hair and come to eat!”

“It’s okay.”

He shook his head and walked towards the dining table, with no intention of drying his hair. Seeing this, Xanthea grabbed his arm, “What do you mean ‘It’s okay‘? Wet hair can easily lead to a cold. Have you forgotten how sick you were just a few days ago?”

“Then will Xannie dry it for me?”

He turned, a faint smile playing at the corners of his eyes.

Seeing his triumphant smile, she couldn’t help feeling like she had fallen into a trap.

“Why are you suddenly calling me “Xannie“?”

1 like “Xannie”

“Ah?”

Orion: “I like calling you Xannie. Do you not like it?”

“I, I don’t mind.”

Xanthea was a bit puzzled by him, furrowing her brows slightly. Then, he suddenly stepped closer, his tall, commanding figure casting a shadow over her, his gaze intensifying. “From now on, “Xannie‘ can only be called by me. Don’t let anyone else call you that, okay?”

“Oh.”

Few did anyway.

Xanthea noticed something seemed different about him since he came out of the bathroom.

He seemed different, somehow more aggressive?

“Sit down, I’ll dry your hair.”

“Okay.”

Orion sat in front of the mirror, and Xanthea grabbed a dry towel and a hairdryer, first using the towel to dab his hair dry and then switching on the warm setting.

The warm air blew through the man’s dark, thick short hair, and as Xanthea ran her fingers through it, she felt the hard texture of his hair strands. She remembered her mother once saying that people with hard hair have hard hearts, but she found Orion to be gentle, his nature very gentle, even the way he looked at

her.

Especially now as he sat quietly, allowing her to fuss over him: his tousled hair partly obscured his sharp

features, softening his usually cold demeanor and making him seem somewhat childlike and adorably compliant.

She wished she could have such a handsome a