I'll wait for you (Dayasco)

The meeting

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, painting the hotel room in a warm, golden glow. Daya stirred beside me, a low groan escaping his lips. Considering he was a mountain of a man, impossibly tall and broad-shouldered which was a stark contrast to my own slender frame, when he was cuddled up beside me, he somehow made himself seem so small. He shifted, his hand finding my chest, his fingers tracing circles on my skin.

"Bosco," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "My... my ass is killing me."

His words sparked a familiar warmth in my chest, a mixture of amusement and tenderness. Last night had been... intense. I was worried the pain was a reminder of the pain he'd endured years ago, scars etched deep into his lower back.

I pulled him closer, his head finding a comfortable nestle against my chest. I stroked the scars on his back, the rough ridges beneath my fingertips a constant reminder of his strength, of his resilience. I knew these marks, these reminders of the past, were what brought him such intense pleasure when we were together.

"It's okay, baby," I murmured, my voice soft and reassuring. 'You'll feel better soon. Just rest."

He sighed and burrowed closer, his warmth melting away the remnants of the night's passion. He stayed close until the insistent buzz of my phone pulled me from our embrace. It was my editor, reminding me of our meeting.

I glanced at Daya, his blue eyes still closed, his face peaceful despite the discomfort. I couldn't bear to leave him like this, but I knew this meeting was crucial.

"I have to go honey," I whispered, kissing his forehead. "But I'll be back soon."

He cracked open an eye, a hint of pain still lingering in his expression. "Good luck, baby. Show 'em what you're made of."

His words were a gentle push, a reminder of the dreams we shared, of the ambitions I was chasing. I couldn't help but smile. He was my rock, my anchor, my partner in every sense.

I slipped into a skirt and a crisp white blouse, wanting to look my best for this meeting. Daya stirred again, his eyes fluttering open. He watched me from the bed, a smile playing on his lips.

"You look beautiful, Bosco."

"Thank you," I said, meeting his gaze. He shuffled uncomfortably, a silent acknowledgment of his pain. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Don't worry about me. I've got Crystal and Luxx, We're going out for lunch and drinks in a little bit."

"Alright, have fun. But don't drink too much, okay, you get all soppy when you're drunk," I teased. I knew he would have a good time with them.

I gave him a quick kiss, my heart heavy with a bittersweet feeling. I hated leaving him, especially in pain, but when he was with his friends, I knew that he was in good hands.

As I stepped out of the hotel room, my nerves started to bubble up. This meeting was a chance of a lifetime. It was my shot at becoming a published author, something I'd been yearning for since I was a child. I paced the lobby, waiting for my name to be called.

Finally, the receptionist smiled, ushering me into a small office. The editor, Ms. Parker, was a woman of sharp intelligence and boundless energy. She was excited about my ideas, eager to hear about my world-building, my character development.

"You have a natural talent, Bosco," Ms. Parker said, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. "Your ideas are fresh, your writing is engaging. I'm so excited to see what you'll do with them."

This was it. I was finally getting my big break. The world seemed to be spinning around me, a dizzying mix of elation and disbelief.

Back in the hotel room, I found a bouquet of lilies and a card waiting for me on the bed. Daya's handwriting was bold and flamboyant, just like him.