The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 131

Alistair was a light sleeper, a habit ingrained from his military days.

In the dead of night, the knock on his door was actually incredibly soft and hesitant, trembling with uncertainty.

Stepping out of bed, Alistair opened the door.

The young woman standing there looked flustered, the corners of her eyes rimmed with red. She appeared entirely helpless and frantic.

Her nightgown was slightly rumpled, clinging to her skin. As the night breeze swept through the hallway, the loose fabric effortlessly outlined the curve of her waist.

"What is it?"

Alistair was wearing dark silk pajamas. The casual loungewear softened his naturally intimidating aura, giving him an illusory air of gentleness.

Biting her lower lip, Celia whispered, "Uncle Alistair... I think there's something outside my window..."

"What do you mean?"

"I just looked out, and there's something white floating out there."

Celia forced her voice to steady, speaking in a small tone. "I don't know what it is, so I came to get you..."

"Where?"

Celia pointed upstairs toward her bedroom.

Alistair didn't say another word, simply leading the way upstairs.

The two of them stopped outside her bedroom door.

Alistair pushed the door open, stepped inside, and looked out the window.

Outside, something white was indeed caught on the balcony, fluttering wildly in the wind.

Opening the balcony door, Alistair stepped outside and pulled the object free.

He walked back to Celia and held the item out for her to see.

Her eyes widened. Once she realized what it was, a flush of deep embarrassment spread across her cheeks.

—It was her silk scarf.

Awkwardly taking the white fabric from his hand, Celia's voice was stiff. "Thank you..."

Alistair didn't comment. He simply walked back over and secured the balcony door.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you," Celia explained softly. "I thought it was..."

After a moment's thought, he clarified, "I just mean that sometimes I might not be at the manor. If you need something, you can always go to them."

Celia's voice was barely a whisper. "It would be so embarrassing to tell the staff about something like this..."

Hearing this, the corner of Alistair's mouth twitched upward in a faint smile. "But it's not embarrassing to tell me?"

"You're different from everyone else."

Celia looked up at him, her tone completely earnest.

The words slipped out so fast and with such conviction that even she was momentarily stunned by them.

Alistair looked down at her. The warm light couldn't quite penetrate the depths of his eyes, and his long lashes cast heavy shadows over his sharp cheekbones.

"Oh?"

Just a single syllable, his tone curling upward, his voice low and raspy—an invitation for her to explain.

Celia bit her lip, then said seriously, "You've already seen me at my absolute worst. You're different."

His thumb subconsciously rubbed against the pad of his index finger.

Moonlight spilled across the balcony, casting a large swath of shimmering silver light over the floor.