After everything you and Julian had gone through, from the six days of Caraval, to the endless amounts of trickery and illusions situated in the game, he knew you couldn’t be at the best state of mind. A person wasn’t often happy if a traumatic event, like watching two of your favorite people die in the same day.

He always knew you were pretending to be happier and better. After you escaped your father and evil fiancé, he stayed with you, promising you that he would be by your side. You had promise him that you were better, but every facade of a face eventually faded into reality, and that for you meant getting exposed of your true nature.

Julian entered the house you and him had gotten after you two left Trisda and the island you and him participated in Caraval. He walked around before his eyes landed on the chaos engulfing his living room. There you were, guards questioning you and restraining you to make sure you weren’t a danger to yourself and to those around. Anger flared up in his chest, because he didn’t need them over, and you had lied to him.

He crossed the living room in a few strides and grabs your shoulders, pulling you away from the rough guards who were persistent on getting information about your mental health out of you. “Are you okay?” he asks, ignoring everyone else expect you. “You look horrible, my love. Come here.” he says, trying to restrain the anger in his voice as he drew you closer to his chest and wrapped his strong arms around your trembling body.