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 with Winter in my arms. Naked.
I looked down at her sleeping form, feeling a wave of emotions I hadn't allowed myself to feel in so long. God. The number of times I wished to have her here like this, to hold her close and just breathe her in. But I always held back. I couldn't bring myself to cross that line because I valued her safety above everything else. And Winter? She's been through so much already—more than anyone should have to endure. She shouldn't have to deal with my problems, too. But God, don't I love this—don't I love her.
Who knew you could feel so at peace?
I gazed down at her, at the way her curls framed her face, each strand a reminder of the chaos and beauty she brought into my life. Her thick, dark lashes fanned over her cheeks, and those pink, full lips of hers, even in sleep, were slightly pouted as if she was still dreaming. She looked so innocent, so untouched by all the shit we've been through. And for a moment, I let myself believe that this—just this—was enough.
I gently traced my fingers along the curve of her shoulder, careful not to wake her. She didn't need to know about the mess in my head right now. She deserved to rest, to have a moment where nothing could reach her. As much as I wanted to keep her here in my arms forever, I knew the world outside was waiting for us, with all its problems and dangers.
But for now, I let myself enjoy the silence, the feel of her soft skin against mine, and the realization that, for the first time in a long while, I wasn't alone. Winter was here, and maybe—just maybe—we could find a way to keep this peace a little longer.
Winter stirred in my arms, her body shifting slightly as she started to wake. I felt her muscles tense for a moment before she relaxed again, her eyes fluttering open.
Her brown eyes met mine, still hazy with sleep, and she gave me a soft, sleepy smile that made my chest tighten.
"Morning," she murmured, her voice thick with drowsiness as she snuggled closer to me, her warmth seeping into my skin.
"Morning," I replied, my voice low, as I brushed a stray curl away from her face. She looked so beautiful like this, so effortless and real.
Winter let out a small sigh, her hand coming up to rest on my chest, right on my tattoo. "How long have you been awake?"
"Not long," I said, though I wasn't sure how much time had passed since I woke up with her in my arms. I'd been too caught up in just watching her, in memorizing every detail.
She looked up at me, her gaze still heavy with sleep but searching. "You okay?"
I nodded, but she didn't seem convinced. Her hand moved to cup my cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over my skin.
"You don't have to lie to me, Lucas," she whispered, her voice soft but steady. "Not anymore."
Her words hit me harder than I expected, a reminder that no matter how much I wanted to protect her, she was already in this with me. There was no hiding from her, not now.
