Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 387: Would you like to dine? (3)

Elara stirred her soup absently, her thoughts scattered. She couldn’t quite place what she was feeling, but it was unusual—foreign, even. Something about the way Luca’s gaze lingered on her, sharp and unflinching, sent a faint heat creeping up her neck.

’Shy?’ she thought, the word startling her. It didn’t feel right—didn’t fit the walls she’d built around herself over the years. She was no stranger to attention, having grown used to being observed and judged since she was a child. But this… this was different.

Her fingers tightened around her spoon, the warmth of the broth doing little to combat the sudden fluttering in her chest.

’Why is he looking at me like that?’

Every time she dared to glance up, his dark eyes were there, meeting hers with a calm intensity that made her pulse quicken. And yet, there was nothing inherently invasive about his gaze—it wasn’t leering or prying. It was simply… present. Too present. Like he could see right through her.

She quickly dropped her gaze back to her soup, her spoon clinking softly against the bowl. The feeling wasn’t unwelcome, exactly—it was just unfamiliar. Unnerving, even. She hadn’t felt like this in years. Not since…

Elara shook her head lightly, banishing the thought before it could take root. ’No. I won’t think about that.’

Just then, the waiter approached with the next course, setting down plates with an elaborate flourish. The dish was... unusual. A creature with curled, segmented legs neatly arranged around a central body, the aroma tantalizing but the appearance startlingly alien. Elara blinked at it, tilting her head slightly as she took in the sight.

”What is it?” she asked, her tone cautious.

The waiter smiled warmly, clasping their hands together. ”Ah, this is one of Stormhaven’s most famous delicacies—the tidecrawler. Caught fresh this morning, steamed to perfection, and served with our signature spiced butter. I guarantee you’ll love it.”

Elara and Luca exchanged skeptical glances. Luca leaned forward slightly, inspecting the dish with mild apprehension. ”It looks like something that crawled out of a gate,” he muttered, his tone low enough for only Elara to hear.

Elara snorted softly, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips despite herself. ”It does, doesn’t it?”

The waiter, oblivious to their private exchange, beamed at them. ”Enjoy! Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

As the waiter left, Elara picked up her fork, eyeing the tidecrawler with suspicion. ”Well, here goes nothing,” she muttered, cutting off a piece of the creature’s soft, glistening flesh and dipping it into the butter.

Luca followed suit, though his movements were slower, more deliberate. They both hesitated for a moment before taking their first bites. The flavor was unexpectedly rich and delicate, a perfect balance of brine and spice that melted on the tongue.

”Okay,” Elara admitted after swallowing. ”That’s... surprisingly good.” Experience more on .com

”Agreed,” Luca said, nodding slightly. ”Though I’m still not convinced it’s not from another plane.”

Elara chuckled, but the sound faded as she glanced at him again. He was eating with his usual ease, his gaze occasionally flicking to her with that same unrelenting intensity. She felt it again—that strange, unsettling familiarity that made her chest tighten.

’Why does he look at me like that?’ she wondered. And more importantly, ’Why does he feel so familiar?’

She had dismissed the notion before, chalking it up to her imagination. But now, sitting across from him under the warm glow of the inn’s lanterns, the feeling resurfaced, stronger than ever. It wasn’t just the way he looked at her—it was something deeper, a resonance she couldn’t explain.

Her thoughts spiraled, searching through fragments of memories, trying to piece together why this man—a stranger in most senses—felt as though he’d been part of her life before.

”Is the meal that interesting?” Luca’s voice broke through her reverie, pulling her back to the present. His smirk was back, teasing and sharp. ”You’re really looking at it through and through.”

Elara blinked, realizing she’d been staring, though not at the food. Her cheeks flushed faintly, and she quickly looked down at her plate. ”I’m just... savoring it,” she said, her tone slightly defensive.

”Savoring, huh?” Luca echoed, his smirk widening. ”Sure doesn’t look like it.”

”I am,” Elara insisted, though her thoughts were still tangled with the odd familiarity of him. She stabbed another piece of tidecrawler with her fork, but then she realized.

’Why not ask him?’

Elara’s fork paused midway to her lips, the question nagging at the edges of her thoughts. Why not ask him? It wasn’t as though she needed to feel shy around someone like Luca—especially not him, of all people.

Why should I? she thought, the logic snapping into place.

She set her fork down gently and raised her head, meeting his dark gaze directly. ”Luca,” she began, her voice steady but laced with curiosity. ”Have we ever met before?”

Luca blinked, his spoon hovering above his plate. For a fraction of a second, something flickered in his expression—too fleeting to catch properly—before his smirk returned. ”Hmm?” he asked, tilting his head as though her question amused him. ”Why do you think so?”

Elara straightened in her seat, her hands resting lightly on the table. ”It’s just…” She hesitated briefly, searching for the right words, but pressed on. ”You feel familiar. Like I’ve known you before, but I can’t quite place it.”

Luca leaned back in his chair, his smirk never faltering. ”Familiar, you say?” His tone was light, almost dismissive, but his eyes gleamed with an enigmatic glint. ”Well, I am rather unforgettable. Perhaps you’ve read about me in one of those Frost Mage chronicles.”

Elara rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. ”I’m serious,” she said, her tone softening. ”It’s not just your face or your mannerisms. It’s… something else. Like a memory I can’t quite grasp.”

He studied her quietly for a moment, his usual playful demeanor softening into something more reflective. But then he shrugged, his movements casual, as if brushing off her words. ”If we had met, I’m sure I’d remember you,” he said, his tone smooth and easy. ”You’re not exactly forgettable yourself, Elara.”

His answer was clear—clear and maddeningly evasive. Elara narrowed her eyes slightly, her instincts pricking at the edges of her mind. ”You’re deflecting,” she accused, leaning forward a fraction. ”Why?”

”Deflecting?” Luca repeated, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. ”You wound me, Frost Mage. I’m merely answering your question.”

Elara frowned, frustration flickering behind her eyes. ”Then why do I feel like you’re hiding something?”

”Because you’re suspicious by nature,” Luca replied smoothly, his smirk widening again. ”But I assure you, if I had the pleasure of knowing you before, I wouldn’t forget. Maybe you just have a knack for drawing people in.”

”Hmm?” Elara leaned forward slightly, her gaze locking onto Luca’s dark eyes. ”Suspicious,” she murmured, her tone edged with quiet insistence. Her instincts buzzed faintly, whispering that there was more to him than his casual words suggested.

Lucavion, however, leaned back in his chair, the glint of amusement in his eyes deepening as a soft laugh escaped him. ”Let’s entertain the idea for a moment,” he said, his voice smooth yet layered with an almost playful undertone. ”Let’s say we have met before. Then wouldn’t it be fate that we’ve crossed paths again, here of all places? Out of all the inns, all the cities in the world…”

He trailed off deliberately, his smirk fading into something softer, almost genuine. His gaze held hers steadily as he added, ”Doesn’t that mean it’s fate that brought us together here?”

There was no teasing edge in his tone this time, only quiet curiosity. ”Would you not say so?”

Elara blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the shift in his demeanor. His smile wasn’t the usual smirk—it was warm, and sincere in a way that seemed to strip away the layers of mystery surrounding him, even if just for a fleeting moment. Before she could respond, he lifted his glass of wine with practiced elegance, taking a slow sip as his eyes never left hers.

The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt heavier, filled with unspoken thoughts neither seemed ready to voice. Elara tore her gaze away first, lowering her eyes to her plate as her thoughts churned.

What is with this guy? she wondered, exhaling softly. He wasn’t particularly handsome in the traditional sense—his features were sharp, his smirks infuriatingly smug—but there was something about him. Something intangible, like a pull she couldn’t quite resist. It wasn’t charm, exactly, or even charisma. It was deeper than that, a gravity that drew people in like a vortex.

”Maybe…..”

”Indeed….”

Whatever it was….

The time they were spending was not a waste….Elara was sure of that at least….