Purest Blue

The morning light slipped through the tall windows of the Everhart estate, filling Noah's room with a soft, golden glow. The marble floor reflected the delicate beams like liquid sunlight, and the scent of fresh lilies—Alisa's favorite—hung faintly in the air.

Noah lay quietly in bed, his silver-white hair scattered across the pillow. He didn't stir until the faintest sound reached his ears—a gentle creak as the door opened.

Alisa entered without a word, her steps silent on the thick carpet. She wore the pale sky-blue blouse and navy skirt she favored, her silver watch gleaming softly on her wrist, though she never glanced at it. Her blue eyes, calm and warm, settled on him as she approached the bedside.

"Good morning, Noah," she whispered, her voice as soft as the morning breeze. Her fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, a touch so gentle it felt like a feather resting on his skin.

"Good morning, Alisa," Noah answered sleepily, smiling without opening his eyes fully. Her presence was a constant comfort—like a lighthouse guiding him safely through an endless sea.

With a slow, careful movement, Alisa drew back the curtains, bathing the room in warm light. "Time to start your day," she said softly. "Breakfast is waiting downstairs, just like always."

Noah sat up, the familiar rhythm of the day unfolding around him. The world was quiet, peaceful, perfectly arranged.

The breakfast room smelled like freshly brewed green tea and warm toast. Alisa sat at the table, her posture graceful and composed, hands folded neatly in her lap. She wore a serene smile that could calm a storm.

On the table lay his breakfast—fluffy eggs, arranged with precision, sliced avocado spiraled like a tiny garden, and half a grapefruit gleaming like a jewel. Every element was exactly as she had prepared it, optimized to nourish him perfectly.

"Sit," she invited, voice as smooth as silk.

Noah obeyed, settling across from her with the practiced manners she had carefully taught him since childhood.

Her eyes lingered on him a moment, warm but observant. "You haven't said the word again, have you?"

"No," he replied honestly, eyes clear and steady. "I'm careful."

Alisa's smile deepened with relief. "Good. You know it's important."

She didn't need to say which words. They hovered unspoken between them—words like fight, revenge, hate, death, and romance—words she had forbidden, not out of fear, but love. She knew the darkness they could bring, even in stories.

"Why can't I say them?" Noah had asked once, genuinely puzzled.

"Because you don't need to," Alisa answered softly, taking his hand in hers. "Your world is beautiful enough without them."

Noah squeezed her hand, comforted by the warmth of her certainty.

After breakfast, Noah retreated to his room, where his smartphone waited on the desk. It looked ordinary, but every app, every notification was carefully curated by Alisa's watchful control.

He picked it up and saw a notification blinking.

Curious, he tapped it.

The screen flickered, then a message appeared:

Access Denied: Content Restricted.

His brow furrowed. He tapped a few more times, trying to get around the filter, but the device remained locked.

Before frustration could bloom, Alisa appeared in the doorway, arms folded, her face calm but firm.

"You know you're not allowed to watch revenge stories, violent scenes, or romance yet, Noah," she said gently. "Those things aren't for you."

"It's just stories," he murmured, looking down.

Alisa crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed, her fingers resting lightly on his shoulder.

"Stories shape us," she said softly. "They plant ideas we don't always understand. I'm keeping you safe."

She unlocked the settings with a few swift taps—codes only she knew—and scrolled through the logs of what he'd tried to access.

"See?" she said, showing him. "You tried to watch a fight scene. I blocked it before you saw it."

Noah bit his lip, nodding slowly. "Thank you for keeping me safe."

Alisa smiled and ruffled his hair gently. "Always."

That evening, the bathroom was warm and scented with lavender and vanilla—Alisa's choice for calming restless minds.

The marble tub was already filled with steaming water, reflecting the golden glow of the sconces on the walls.

Noah slipped into the water, sighing as the warmth wrapped around him.

Alisa sat on the edge of the tub, dipping her feet into the water. "You don't mind that I'm here, do you?"

"No," Noah said simply. "You make it better."

Her fingers moved with practiced care, washing his hair slowly, carefully, like a ritual.

"I do this because I love you," she whispered. "Because the world can be a scary place."

Noah closed his eyes, feeling the weight of those words settle deep inside him.

"I trust you," he said softly.

Alisa's smile was a secret curve of lips only he could see. "And I will always keep you safe."

What Noah didn't see was the data streaming quietly from his neural lace to Alisa's system.

She monitored his vitals, moods, even the subtle shifts in his brainwaves.

Every smile, every sigh, every hesitation—recorded and understood.

It was love and control entwined.

Not stifling, but molding.

Alisa knew the smallest flicker of curiosity in him—the pull toward things forbidden.

And she was always there, ready to steer him gently back.

One afternoon in the library, Noah read aloud from a book.

A forbidden word slipped: fight.

Alisa's eyes snapped to him immediately, expression unreadable.

"Noah," she said softly, but steel under the velvet. "Remember what we talked about."

His cheeks flushed. "Sorry."

Her smile returned, but it carried weight. "Mistakes happen. Just don't say it again."

"Why?" he asked quietly.

"Because words have power," she said. "They shape what you think and feel. Guard them like treasures."

Noah looked down, understanding more than he could say.

The world outside the estate was vast and unpredictable.

Alisa knew she couldn't shield Noah forever.

But for now, their world was a bubble—fragile, perfect.

Where innocence wasn't ignorance.

Where love meant guiding, guarding, shaping.

And where Noah could still be just a boy—

Cradled in the arms of the sister who would never let him fall.

As night fell, Alisa sat beside Noah's bed, watching him sleep peacefully.

She whispered a silent vow:

I will keep you safe.

I will keep your world pure.

I will guard your light—

Even if it means dimming my own.

Her hand brushed through his hair, soft and sure.

In that touch were every promise, every secret,

Every piece of a love so fierce

It could reshape the stars.

[End Chapter eight]