How to be loved

57 - Mine

How to be loved

57 - Mine

Becky's POV

In the end, I convinced her to let the museum and beach plans slip away, both of us drawn to the idea of a quiet, unhurried day together. Her hand slipped warmly into mine, and I gave it a gentle squeeze, catching her gaze with a soft smile. The look she returned held that quiet excitement that had a way of settling any restlessness within me. So, with a knowing grin, I led her back to my condo, feeling like we were both stepping into a world made just for us.

The moment we crossed the threshold, the noise of the outside world seemed to fade, the hustle of the city blurring away as we entered our own little sanctuary. My place, filled with familiar comforts and the soft fragrance of fresh linen and floral hints, immediately wrapped around us, like an embrace. I'd missed having her here as much as I'd missed her herself. Just her presence brought a sense of completeness, a feeling that she belonged here, filling each corner of my space as effortlessly as she filled my heart.

I glanced around the room, a contented sigh slipping from my lips. "You know, it felt emptier without you these past days," I murmured, glancing back at her. "I think it missed you just as much as I did."

She leaned against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow, that familiar, playful glint lighting up her expression. "Oh? Did it miss me more than you did?"

I gave her a quiet, knowing smile, letting my keys slip from my hand as I closed the distance between us. She started to make her way toward the couch, but on an impulse, I reached out, gently catching her hand and pulling her toward me. Before she could settle onto the cushions, I tugged her into my lap, her surprised laughter filling the room as she fell into my arms, warm and soft, like she was meant to be there.

"Nothing could miss you more than I do, baby," I whispered, drawing her close, my words just for her, my lips brushing against hers with a feather-light caress. I wrapped my arms around her waist, grounding her against me, feeling the softness of her, the warmth of her, as though every inch of her presence filled all the spaces where I'd felt her absence. She leaned in, letting her forehead rest against mine, her breath mingling with mine as time seemed to slow, the world outside reduced to nothing but the faint hum of the city beyond.

With a quiet laugh, she trailed her fingers along my jaw, her touch as light as a whisper. Her gaze met mine, and in her eyes, I saw a softness I'd come to know so well—a look that made my heart tighten in a gentle ache, the kind that made me realize I'd give anything to keep this feeling, this closeness, alive forever. We didn't need words here, just the quiet simplicity of existing in each other's presence.

"Are you as happy as I am to just... stay here?" I murmured, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair from her face, my thumb lingering along her cheek.

Her smile softened, and she leaned in, tucking a few strands of my hair behind my ear, her gaze unwavering. "You know how much of an extrovert I am," she teased, her fingers trailing down the side of my face. "But with you? Right here is perfect. Just being here with you? That's more than enough." She nestled into me, letting her arms wrap around my shoulders, her warmth a quiet anchor that grounded me to this moment, to her.

I pressed my lips to her shoulder, letting them linger, tasting the comfort of her skin, the familiar scent of her that had become like home. My heart fluttered, a smile pulling at my lips as I let myself feel the warmth of her heartbeat against mine. This was the peace I'd been searching for, the soft, unhurried quiet that settled around us, woven together by the rhythm of our breathing, by the steady comfort of simply being here.

My hands drifted to her waist, pulling her closer, as though even a breath of space between us felt too far. We stayed that way, wrapped in each other, letting the world outside dissolve, letting our silence speak for us, unspoken promises filling the quiet. It was a rare, gentle contentment, the kind that feels like home.