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say yes to heaven-
lana del rey.
milayah.I blink away the remainants of my sleep, my eyes adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.
Sighing, I nuzzle deeper into the sheets I was in, relishing in the comfort of the soft silk against my skin.
However, when I try to pull the blanket, there is a weight stopping me.
Realisation hits me like a storm- Azrael.
With a heavy sigh, I turn my gaze to his face, already feeling nothing but resentment.
But as I study his sharp features, bathed in the soft morning glow, a wave of unexpected admiration washes over me. He was undeniably handsome, with chiseled features and a strong jawline. His tousled locks fell effortlessly over his forehead, and even in sleep, there was an air of confidence about him.
I find myself captivated by the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips curled ever so slightly in response and his usually neutral skin blushed. For a moment, I allowed myself to forget the circumstances that had brought us together, allowing myself to appreciate the simple beauty of a man lying beside me.
Just as I was lost in my thoughts, he stirs, eyes fluttering yet still closed, mouth releasing a sleepy groan.
Caught off guard, I freeze.
"Good morning." He mockingly murmurs, voice husky with sleep.
I clear my throat, suddenly feeling extremely awkward. "Not really." I reply, my tone curt as I struggle to avert my eyes from his biceps.
A knowing smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he stirs, his eyes fluttering open to reveal a pair of piercing grey eyes that seemed to see right through me. "Am I that captivating? Or is there something on my face?"
I bristle at his words, annoyance seeping through to my face. "Don't flatter yourself," I retort, though my heart wasn't entirely in it.
He chuckles softly, propping himself up on one elbow and eyeing me intently. "You know," his gaze doesn't waver, "for someone who claims to hate me, you seem awfully interested in staring at me."
I could feel the heat rising in my chest as I struggle to find a retort.
With a resigned huff, I meet his gaze, squinting my eyes ever so slightly before I fling my legs over the bed and walk to the bathroom.
Bastard.
I don't claim to hate him.
He kidnapped me, "owned" me, threatened to kill my best friend and on top of that, told me that my father did not love me.
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