𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈 everyone knows who she is. Worldwide model, covered in many vogue magazines, walked catwalks, and runaway. But people don't know what happens behind the curtains. Despite the many scandals that have plagued her reputation...
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I woke up in bed, the early morning light filtering through the curtains. Lucas's arms were wrapped tightly around me, his warmth seeping into my skin. I felt safe, cocooned in his embrace, a rare moment of peace that I wasn't ready to let go of just yet.
Shifting slightly, I pressed soft kisses along his neck, trailing up to his jawline. His skin was warm and smooth under my lips, and I could feel his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my touch. I lingered there, savoring the quiet intimacy, waiting for him to stir.
Eventually, he did. His curls were messy, tousled from sleep, and his eyes fluttered open, still heavy with dreams. His voice, thick with sleep, rumbled through his chest, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.
I reached up to play with his hair, letting my fingers tangle in the soft, dark curls. My own hair fell around his face like a curtain, shielding us from the world for a little while longer. It felt like we were in our own little bubble, where nothing else mattered. Just the two of us, wrapped up in each other.
I could feel him relax under my touch, his grip on me tightening just slightly as if he didn't want to let go either. For once, there were no words, no tension, just this shared silence that said more than anything else could.
I smiled as his eyes slowly opened, still clouded with sleep. "Good morning," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath as I continued to play with his curls.
"Morning," he mumbled, his voice rough and deep, making my heart skip. He pulled me closer, burying his face in my neck, his breath warm against my skin.
"Didn't think you were a cuddler," I teased, running my fingers through his hair.
He smirked, his lips brushing against my collarbone. "Only with you."
The words sent a warmth spreading through my chest, and I couldn't help but smile. "Lucky me."
He pulled back slightly, his dark eyes locking onto mine, a serious expression replacing the playful one. "Are you okay?"
The question hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I didn't know how to answer. I could see the concern in his eyes, the way he was studying me as if trying to see through the walls I'd built up.
"I'm fine," I replied, offering him a small smile, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. "Better now that you're here."
His brows furrowed slightly, clearly not convinced, but he didn't push it. Instead, he reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "You know you can talk to me, right?"
I nodded, the familiar ache in my chest returning. I wanted to believe him, to let him in, but something held me back. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was pride. Whatever it was, it kept the words trapped inside.
"Yeah, I know," I finally said, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, hoping it would be enough to silence the doubts in both our minds.
He kissed me back, slow and gentle, as if trying to reassure me without words. When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, his fingers still tangled in my hair.
