Renna Rose Lancaster is the girl people stare at like she belongs in a glass case, carved with angel-soft beauty, a life airbrushed into unattainable perfection. But Renna knows perfection is nothing but a golden prison, coated in pretty lies that k...
"I have kissed the moon that sleeps in your chest, I have kissed the sea that swells with your desire. I have found the rhythm of your heartbeat, I have woven your breath into my skin, And now, my body is not mine, But yours-forever bound to the soul you carry."
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The city's breath was soft on my legs, brushing cool across my thighs where the slit kept flapping up every time the breeze flirted with it.
Across the street, a woman was pushing a stroller, stopping to kneel as her toddler waddled out, tiny hands reaching for pigeons.
Her daughter was in the puffiest pink coat I'd ever seen-hood up, cheeks red, legs stomping in glittery wellies, squealing with glee like the whole pavement belonged to her. She stumbled, plopped onto her bum, and laughed so loud that even the pigeons seemed to smile before flying away.
She's so small. How do they even come out so tiny and... and pink?
The woman bent down, kissing her baby's nose, then scooped her up like it was the most natural thing in the world. The little girl turned her face up to the sun and blew kisses at the wind.
My stomach felt warm. My hands itched to touch my belly, but I kept them folded.
That's what I want. I want to love like that. I want to kiss someone that tiny. Someone who climbs onto my chest at night because they can't sleep unless I'm singing them lullabies.
I bit my lip, hugging myself.
"You okay, daydreamer."
Aadam's voice cracked through my thoughts like honey over toast.
I turned, flustered, hands nervously patting my blouse like I wasn't caught daydreaming about motherhood.
Aadam was grinning, that half-lazy, dimple-showing grin, that made his jaw look even sharper in the weak morning sun. His curls were extra curly today, springing over his forehead like they were dancing just for me.
"You're gonna stand here staring at strangers' kids while I'm over here losing my damn mind waiting on you?" he teased, his hands full of a lopsided bouquet and a paper box.
The flowers looked like he'd just grabbed whatever the earth coughed up. It was beautiful because it was him. I gazed at it, the warmth of the gesture slowly blooming in my chest.
"For me?" I whispered.
Aadam snorted. "No. They're for the next girl I fall in love with. Course it's for you, doll." He placed the flowers in my hands, brushing his thumb over my wrist, then lifted the bag. "And these... raspberry mille-feuilles. The ones you lose your mind over."
My fingers tightened around the flowers. "You remembered?"
He leaned in, his nose brushing mine, stealing my air. "I'd forget my own name before I'd forget you."