ok people i will start putting any language songs cause jesus to much time looking for only english songs
eyes dont lie by isabel larosa
ENJOY
If I had to describe my relationship with Alex, it'd definitely be a rollercoaster.
Jesus, this man drives my ego insane—not "love-crazy" like in romance books. No. He makes me go "I wanna strangle him" crazy.
It's been a day since he came back, and I have to admit… he's been oddly calm.
Which, unfortunately, only makes my curiosity go wild. What happened on that trip? What is he looking for? Why am I still here? Why is he doing this?
Those questions and a hundred others have eaten up my sleep. His neutral, calm self is giving me the creeps.
No fights since he returned—well, apart from last night's talk.
Today, we're all seated at the dining table, and I'm trying to act normal while Ms. Adele tears some poor servant a new one.
"Does this look like cornsilk to you, huh?" she snaps. "This is obviously cream. Just how ignorant are you? I told you—cornsilk. Cornsilk!"
The tone alone could make a grown man cry.
Alex and I sit only a couple feet from her, and honestly? I can feel the servant's urge to break down.
"And who hired such a useless thing like you?" Ms. Adele adds with venom.
The poor girl, barely holding it together, mumbles:
"Well… um… it was you, my lady."
I choke on my drink, fighting hard to hide my laughter. Alex shoots me a look, and I try so hard not to burst.
Ms. Adele pauses.
"…Was I?" she mutters.
I can't help it—I turn back to Alex, who's got the tiniest smirk on his face.
"Keep laughing, and you're next," he murmurs.
"Oh Lord, protect me from that woman," I reply under my breath.
Since Alex came back, the castle's gotten busy again. More people walking around. I even met the grand butler George—a very sweet man. He gave me a detailed tour, showed me where I could and couldn't go.
"Lilith," Alex says suddenly.
I look up mid-bite.
"Yes?"
"There's an important gala tonight. I need you to come with me."
Was that a request… or a command?
"Well, um… alright," I say, confused.
"Sooo, this party—"
"Gala," he corrects me.
Alright, Mr. Know-It-All.
"Right. Gala. So what's it about?"
"Tradition. Part of the ceremony," he replies, clipped and cold.
"I see… Not to be a downer, but you plan to take me, a celestial, to a gala full of Cerberus people?"
Unless I wanted to die tonight, that didn't sound like the safest idea.
"You'll be safe with me," he says.
Oh, wow. So reassuring.
"Right… so safe," I mutter, sarcasm dripping.
Wait a minute.
Louise knew what I was just by sensing my aura.
"What about my aura?" I blurt.
"What about it?" Alex asks, voice unreadable.
"They just have to feel it to know something's off."
He doesn't show much emotion—his face remains neutral, not that it's surprising.
"You'll be fine, Lilith. As long as you're with me, nothing will happen."
"Well Louise said my scent was strong. My aura's pretty noticeable."
Boom. Alex goes from chill to alert.
"Who?" he demands.
"Who what?" I ask, already regretting everything.
"Who… is Louise?" His jaw tightens. Teeth clenched.
I freeze.
"What about Louise?" a familiar voice chimes in. Ms. Adele.
"So I'm the only one who doesn't know who this Louise is?" Alex's voice could cut glass.
"Oh, you know Louise! The mayor's son—grew up to be such a handsome boy. Very mature for his age, am I right, princess?"
Ms. Adele, either a master liar or completely off her rocker, smiles at me.
"Uh… YES. He helped us with the ceremony while you were gone. Great guy."
Not a lie, just… missing a few spicy details.
"This… Louise guy doesn't ring a bell. Sorry," Alex says coldly.
"Oh, you oblivious boy," Adele laughs. "Don't worry. You'll meet him tonight. Maybe you can socialize with boys your age."
Tonight?
Louise never mentioned anything about being the mayors son
"I see." Alex scans me from head to toe.
I give him a smile, hiding a storm of confusion, nerves, and fury.
"Anyway, I heard our princess is going to the gala with you," Adele says sweetly.
Why is she smiling like that? This is probably my last meal.
"I am," Alex confirms.
"Oh, then we need to choose a dress!"
"I… I don't really—" I try, but Alex cuts in.
"I think she has enough—"
"It's a gala, not a dinner, young master. Don't worry, she'll look fabulous tonight."
I sit there, stunned.
Oh, this is going to be a long, long night.
---
Hours later.
I'm in the bathtub, getting prepped like some royal sacrifice.
Ms. Adele left about an hour ago to get materials for tonight. Honestly? I agreed with Alex—I already had plenty of dresses.
But nooo. Now I'm here, getting a full-body treatment like a spa hostage.
Four maids are working on me—one on my feet, two on my arms, one on my face. One with my hair. I'm losing my mind. Adele? Nowhere.
I finally ask the girls to wait outside while I breathe before I scream.
A knock on the door interrupts what is probably my last minute of peace. I hustle over, still rubbing my hair with a towel, expecting Ms. Adele with a bag full of shiny torture devices—I mean, dresses.
I swing the door open.
"Oh hey, so I wanted you to—"
Alex?
My brain shuts off. Just completely collapses.
He's standing there. Tall. Dressed in all black. Calm expression. Unreadable eyes.
And me?
Oh God.
I look down.
I'm in a towel.
Not even a towel. A strip of fabric pretending to be a towel.
The maids gave me this tiny piece of hell because "the lotion needs to absorb on your legs." Yeah, well, my dignity is also trying to absorb into the floor right now.
The towel barely covers anything. My thighs are completely out. The top is hanging on for dear life. I'm a sneeze away from a disaster.
"Pretty sure I still have an hour before we leave, right?" I ask, pretending like I'm not mentally digging my own grave.
"Yeah, well… yes. I just— I wanted to give you something but… I'll go. Later. It's fine."
His voice is calm, but it's cracking at the edges. He's staring at the ceiling. The floor. The walls. Anywhere but at me.
I look back up at him, finally realizing he's been avoiding eye contact like his life depends on it.
"What's up with you?" I ask, confused.
He breathes in. Swallows. His throat moves. He points vaguely toward my body.
And then—
"Lilith."
He says my name like a warning.
Or a prayer.
I don't know.
"yeah, so um i will continue to get ready, see you in an hour yeah? great, BYE"
I slam the door so hard I nearly dislocate my shoulder.
"OH MY GOD," I whisper-scream into my hands, my entire face flaming red. "Nope. No. No. No no no."
Did he see anything?
Of course he did.
He absolutely did.
This isn't even a towel—this is trauma disguised as cotton.
"I— I'll come back later," he says from the other side, voice suddenly high-pitched and awkward.
I hear his footsteps retreating.
Silence.
Sweet, deafening, humiliating silence.
I press my back against the door, wishing I could disappear into another dimension. One where towels are normal-sized.
One where Alex didn't just see 80% of my body. One where I am not the main character in a tragic romcom.
"I am not going to that gala," I whisper. "I am not seeing him. Ever again. I am joining a convent."
A couple minutes later, I was all ready to go.
Not going to lie—I had never looked this fabulous.
The dress clung to me like a secret whispered in the dark—deep navy silk embroidered with threads of silver and gold that shimmered like constellations across my skin. Soft, sheer sleeves slid off my shoulders, delicate as a sigh, trailing behind me like mist.
Layers of translucent fabric floated with each step, revealing flashes of pale ivory beneath. A satin sash wrapped around my waist, grounding the airy silhouette, while tiny embroidered butterflies clung to the hem—like they'd chosen me as their night sky.
I didn't feel like myself in it. I felt like I'd stepped out of a fantasy book. The dress made me feel absolutely... fantastic.
"Ms. Adele."
"I know, darling, I know. I'm fabulous."
"Yes, yes, you are—but I've never looked so—so stunning before. Thank you." I ran to her and threw my arms around her.
"Oh, let's not get too sentimental now. Come, come, Princess—Alex must be waiting downstairs for you. Hurry up, sweetie."
"Right, right. Yeah."
We moved quickly, both of us hurrying toward the stairs. My heart was already doing that stupid fluttery thing again. Ugh.
As I descended, my fingers brushed the railing—partly for balance, mostly because my knees felt like cotton. The rustle of my dress echoed with every step, filling the silence... until I looked up.
And saw him.
Alex stood at the base of the stairs like he belonged in a painting. Dressed in a suit blacker than night, sharp and fitted like it had been made just for him—no, carved for him. A dark rose was pinned to his lapel, almost blending in, and a silver chain glinted faintly from beneath the jacket, catching just enough light to make me stare.
He didn't say a word. Just stood there. Watching.
Not like he was admiring me—no, more like he was processing me. And for a second, maybe two, I was doing the same.
All the reasons I shouldn't look at him like that fell away.
And I hated it.
I hated how he pulled my eyes in.
How I wondered what it'd be like to mess up his perfect little suit.
Our eyes locked.
Neither of us said a word.
But something pulsed in the air between us—
Tension.
Not the sweet kind. The kind that makes breathing feel like sin.
"Well, well—too many eyes over here, you kids," Ms. Adele said, snapping us both out of our staring contest like she'd thrown a cold bucket of water over us.
I blinked and looked at her, feeling heat crawl up my neck. We made our way down the rest of the stairs and stopped in front of Alex.
"You look…" His voice was low. Almost unsure. "...Good."
Good?
GOOD?
I nearly combusted on the spot.
Four hours. Four damn hours. I was walking celestial artwork. And he says I look good?
My eyes betrayed me. I was burning holes through his skull.
Ms. Adele let out a small laugh. "Good? Four hours and all you've got is good? Don't lie now, boy. She looks perfect."
She marched up and fixed his tie like a mom scolding her son.
"There we go. Now we have two perfects," she added with a satisfied nod.
None of us said anything.
Silence stretched, thick with things unsaid.
Then we walked out together into the night. In the distance, I saw it—a sleek black carriage, glimmering faintly under the moonlight, led by two magnificent black horses.
"Just in time," Ms. Adele murmured.
Okay. Okay.
Here we go.
"Shall we?" Alex asked, holding out his hand to help me up.
I stared at it.
Then at him.
That same calm face. That unreadable storm behind his eyes.
"Of course," I said, slipping my hand into his.
His fingers curled around mine—cool, steady.
And yeah, I felt it again. Those fucking butterflies
This was going to be a long, long night.