13 Dates With Me

Chapter Seven

No one's pov

Xavier awoke to the soft, golden light filtering through the sheer curtains of the bedroom.

It was a gentle morning, the kind that coaxed the world awake without a jarring alarm.

As he stirred, a warmth enveloped him, tugging him back into the depths of the slumbering dreams where he had floated for hours. But the intoxicating scent of vanilla and musk mingled in his senses, dragging him back to reality, anchoring him in this serene yet electrifying moment.

He shifted slightly, feeling the comforting weight beside him. Turning his head, he found himself face to face with Danny—his Danny.

A rush of memories flooded him like a tidal wave. Just hours before, they had ignited a passion that he had thought was a mere flicker of possibility in his heart.

Now, here they were, tangled in the sheets, skin brushing against skin, an intimacy that he had fantasized about for far too long, years.

Danny's dark curls spilled over the pillow, framing his face like a halo. His lips, slightly parted, were the perfect canvas for the softest of kisses.

Xavier's heart raced at the thought. He studied him as if he were an artwork frozen in time: the delicate curve of his brow, the fullness of his lips, the way his long eyelashes barely stirred in his peaceful slumber.

A wave of emotions crashed over Xavier. This was the man he had spent countless nights dreaming about, yearning for in every waking moment.

Xavier had long believed that their connection would be nothing more than a fantasy, an unfulfilled love that he would carry quietly in his heart.

Yet, here they were, and the weight of reality settled on him like a heavy cloak: they had crossed a threshold that he had once thought impossible.

Last night's memories played out in his mind like a movie reel. The laughter, the glances that lingered just a moment too long, the magnetic pull that had drawn them together in a dance of tentative touches and whispered confessions.

He recalled the way Danny's skin had felt beneath his fingers—soft, warm, alive. They had explored each other with a delightful urgency, a hunger born from years of unspoken desire.

Xavier's fingers drifted unconsciously to Danny's arm, tracing the contours of his bicep. The memories ignited a familiar heat within him, but it was mixed with a sense of disbelief.

How could this be real? How could the love of his life be lying beside him, after all the time they spent dancing around their feelings? He fought the urge to pinch himself to check if he was still dreaming.

As he continued to study Danny, he felt a swell of affection that shifted into an overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

What if this was a fleeting moment? What if the chemistry they shared last night was simply a product of the heat of the moment? What if it was due to their intoxication? What if, once they woke, reality returned to tear them apart? Doubts began to creep in, whispering their persuasive lies, and he felt a twinge of anxiety settle in his stomach.

He gently brushed a curl away from Danny's forehead and allowed himself a small smile. There was something so beautifully innocent about how peaceful Danny looked while sleeping. It was a side of him that the world rarely saw—vulnerable, serene, and utterly human.

Their shared connection felt deeper than any relationship he had ever had; it was as if they communicated in a language of their own, filled with shared glances and inside jokes, a bond forged through years of friendship or whatever you can call their relationship.