I'll wait for you (Dayasco)

The park

The morning sun, streaming through the blinds, painted stripes across Irene's sleeping face. I gently untangled myself from her, careful not to disturb her peaceful slumber. The bed behind me felt cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of Irene's body. 

The sweet smell of bacon and pancakes wafted from the kitchen, and I knew Daya was already up, working his magic in his tiny kitchen.

I tiptoed into the kitchen, my bare feet on the cool tile floor sending a shiver through my body. Daya stood at the stove, his back to me, humming along to a quiet melody playing from his phone. He was so focused, his blue eyes bright and concentrated as he flipped the pancakes with practiced ease. I watched him for a moment, appreciating the way his muscles bunched under his t-shirt as he moved. He was an artist in the kitchen, just like he was with his words.

"Good morning, love." His voice was a soft rumble, a melody that always made my heart skip a beat. He turned, a smile lighting up his face. The soft glow of the morning sun shining against his perfect body.

"Hey, you," I said, returning his smile. He rushed towards me, engulfing me in a warm hug, his scent of coffee and cinnamon filling my senses. He pulled away briefly, concern clouding his features. "How's Irene?"

"She's still asleep.  She slept like a log against me, now I know how you must feel sleeping with me," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Daya nodded, relief washing over his face and a slight smile emerging. He was worried about Irene, his protective instincts kicking in, especially since he understood the weight of the world she was currently carrying on her shoulders, the burden of feeling dirty and used.

Daya finished preparing breakfast, placing three plates on the table gently. He brought mine over to the couch and sat down beside me, his warmth radiating through my side. I leaned against him, craving his touch after a night spent in Irene's company rather than his.

Daya's hands were strong and gentle as they traced patterns on my back. He understood my silent pleas for affection, and his touch was soothing to my soul. I felt safe and cherished, lost in the warmth of his presence.

My mind then flashed back to Irene, and I felt a wave of sadness, knowing that last night she should've been loved and cared for by a man like this. And that wasn't her expirience at all.

A few minutes later, the soft thud of footsteps reverberated from the bedroom. Irene emerged, her face a mask of pain. A soft groan escaped her lips as she shifted uncomfortably trying to walk towards us. I rushed to her side, my heart aching at the sight of her suffering.

"Let me help you," I said, taking her hand. "Come sit down."

Irene nodded, her movements slow and delicate. Daya quickly brought her the plate of food, his concern evident in his eyes. He watched her as she ate, slowly and methodically. 

"I'm going to try and head home today," Irene spoke quietly, her voice raspy. "I need to clean up my place. Get rid of... some things."

Her words hung heavy in the air. We knew what she meant. The residue of the past, the remnants of a night she desperately wanted to escape.

I hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "You don't have to stay at your apartment, you know. You can stay in my apartment. It's just a temporary thing, just until you're back on your feet."

Daya looked at me, his eyes kind. I smiled, a knowing glint in my eyes. Irene was family, and I knew in my place, she would find safety and peace, a place to heal.

Not to mention it gave me an excuse to live with Daya full time for a couple of weeks At least.

Irene's face softened, a small, grateful smile gracing her lips. "Thank you, Bosco. That would mean a lot."