What do you do when your heart yearns for something your mind can't embrace? How do you tame the feelings that keep surfacing for someone special, knowing you're committed to another?
In a world filled with danger and betrayal, Ana Rose embarks on a...
As the soft morning light begins to filter through a small gap in the curtains, I slowly awaken and glance at my phone. The clock reads 9:45 am, and a wave of urgency washes over me—I've slept in much later than I intended. I spring out of bed, my feet hitting the cool floor as I make a beeline for the bathroom to splash some water on my face.
As I walk towards it, I can't resist the temptation to sneak a peek around the nearby room in search of Xavier. To my surprise, there he is, still peacefully sleeping.
It seems I am not the only sleepyhead here...
He is curled up on the couch, tucked in comfortably, with the sun's gentle rays streaming through the big window, casting a warm glow around him. His serene figure, bathed in golden light, creates an almost ethereal scene that tugs at my heart. It's a moment of calm in a busy world, and I can't help but stand there for a moment, savoring the sight.
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A wave of anxiety washes over me as I consider going away. The last thing I want is to wake him and end up caught in that awkward moment of staring, a scenario I dread. Yet, my heart aches to stay, to curl up next to him, enveloping myself in his warmth.
With a mix of determination and reluctance, I finally make my way to the bathroom, casting hundreds of lingering glances back. Once inside, I splash cool water on my face, hoping to soothe my racing thoughts and regain my composure...
I find myself asking, what am I really doing here? How can I face Marco with so many secrets weighing on our relationship?
Part of me knows I should leave—call a taxi or wake him up to drive me home. But then, I realize I don't want to go anywhere. I'd rather stay right here, soaking in his presence, letting time unfold whatever destiny has in store for us. I just can't bear the thought of being away from him, especially after longing for this moment for weeks.
After a while, I wander into his kitchen, hoping to find some coffee pads for the machine. I rummage through the cabinets, growing only more frantic as I can't find any, when suddenly, a familiar voice startles me.
"I don't keep my money there," he chuckles, clearly amused by my panicked search.
I can't help but laugh, shooting back, "Pity! I was about to steal it and make a quick getaway."
With a sleepy smile, he strolls over to a lower cabinet, rubbing his eyes as he retrieves a box of coffee pads for me.
"Don't be ridiculous," he says with a mischievous grin. "Marco would definitely notice if you suddenly got richer overnight."
There's a playful edge in his words, but I can't help but wonder—does he genuinely find this funny, or is there a hint of annoyance beneath his teasing?
"You just can't resist bringing that up, can you?" I snap, my tone sharper than I intended, a mix of irritation and an undercurrent of guilt swirling inside me.
