𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

23⚚ Confused

Vencie POV:

The sunlight streamed through the windows of the princess's room, its golden beams falling directly onto the bulky man who laid spooning her, shielding her completely from the light.

Viraj groaned softly, annoyed at the brightness disrupting his sleep. He shifted slightly, trying to bury his face deeper into the pillow, but the rays persisted, forcing him to wake.

As he cracked open his eyes, groggy he tried to lift his hand to rub his face, only to feel someone holding his hand. He looked down to find Amaira's delicate hand wrapped tightly around his, her fingers clutching him as if even in sleep she feared he might leave.

His gaze softened instantly as his eyes roamed over her. She looked utterly angelic in the morning light, her features relaxed in peaceful slumber.

Her pouty lips, slightly parted, drew his attention, and he couldn't help but smile. Her hair, messy and tangled from the night, spread across his chest like a silky veil.

She was burrowed into him, her legs tangled with his, her entire body curled up against his large frame like a burrito seeking warmth.

She was breathtaking. In moments like this, she looked so soft, so vulnerable, so his.

Viraj's chest swelled with a warmth that spread to every corner of his being. He didn't want to move, didn't want to disturb her.

All he wanted was to keep looking at her, memorize every detail of her as if it was the first time he is seeing her all over again.

The way her lashes rested gently against her cheeks, the way her lips twitched slightly as if she were dreaming, the way she clung to him like he is her entire world—it was a sight that made his heart ache in the best possible way.

After a few moments of quiet admiration, Viraj chuckled softly to himself. She's going to kill me for staring at her like this if she wakes up, he thought.

Still, he couldn't resist pressing a soft kiss to her messy hair. He inhaled deeply, taking in her familiar scent, a mix of vanilla and something uniquely Amaira.

His smile widened when she stirred slightly in her sleep, a small smile appearing on her lips as if she could feel his affection even in her dreams.

She nuzzled deeper into his chest, her face pressing against him like she was seeking more of his warmth.

"Even in your sleep, you know how to make me weak," he murmured, his voice low and filled with quiet adoration.

He sighed softly, thankful for his foresight in making her wear one of his oversized T-shirts after last night's intense session.

His body's natural reaction to her warmth was already bad enough; the last thing he needed was to deal with a morning wood situation that would be impossible to hide.

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table and frowned slightly—it was already past 9 a.m.

Reluctantly, he decided it is time to get up. Very slowly, and with as much care as he could muster, Viraj began to untangle himself from Amaira.

She stirred slightly, her lips forming a soft pout as she whined in protest, her hand reaching out for him in her sleep.

Viraj's heart warmed at the sight, he smiled, grabbing her favorite unicorn teddy from the side of the bed and placing it in her arms. Almost instantly, she hugged it close, her breathing evening out again as she drifted back into a deeper sleep.

He leaned down, pressing another kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment before whispering, "Sleep well, baby."

With one last glance at her peaceful face, he quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind him.