𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

29⚚ Safe

Vencie POV:

The sunlight crept through the sheer curtains, softly illuminating the room. Amaira turned in her sleep, her body naturally seeking warmth.

A lazy smile tugged at her lips as her eyes fluttered open, the haze of sleep still clouding her thoughts. That's when she noticed the source of the warmth beside her—Viraj.

Her smile widened instantly, her cheeks flushing pink as she took in the sight of him sleeping so peacefully next to her. His broad frame dwarfed her petite one, at just 5'4", she felt like a doll compared to his imposing 6'3" stature.

His arms were draped protectively over her, and her small hands rested against his chest, which rose and fell in a soothing rhythm.

She shifted slightly to admire him better, her heart fluttering as she traced his features with her eyes. His dark lashes rested against his cheekbones, and his normally sharp, intense eyes were softened in sleep.

His messy hair fell over his forehead, giving him an almost boyish charm. A faint shadow of stubble lined his jaw, making him look rugged yet impossibly handsome. She giggled silently, biting her lip at the thought that even in sleep, he looked like perfection.

Her fingers itched to trace the strong lines of his face. She gently ran a finger along his brow, down his straight nose, and lightly across his cheek.

She paused at the corner of his lips, which were slightly parted, his breath warm against her skin. Her heart raced at how endearing and vulnerable he looked, a stark contrast to the fierce protector she normally see during the day.

But her peaceful admiration was abruptly interrupted when the doorbell rang—once, then again, then incessantly.

Amaira groaned in frustration, slapping her hand to her forehead. "Of course," she muttered under her breath. "Finally, I get to see his morning face, and this stupid bell has to ruin everything."

Before she could react further, Viraj jolted awake at the sound, his instincts kicking in. He immediately pulled her closer, wrapping her tightly in his arms as his eyes darted around the room, his body tense and ready to protect.

Amaira startled for a moment but quickly relaxed, her heart melting at his automatic response to shield her.

She smiled softly, her hand reaching up to pat his chest. "I'm fine, Raj," she whispered soothingly. "It's just the doorbell."

His shoulders relaxed at her words, and his body eased back against the pillows. He gave her a sleepy, lopsided smile, his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges.

"Good morning, baby," he murmured, his voice husky and warm. Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, lingering just long enough to make her heart skip a beat.

Amaira's smile widened, her cheeks heating as she snuggled closer. "Good morning Vijulu," she whispered back, her voice soft and sweet.

But before she could say anything more, the doorbell rang again, louder this time and just as insistent.

Amaira let out a frustrated groan, burying her face into Viraj's chest. "I hate that bell so much right now," she muttered, her voice muffled.

Viraj chuckled, his deep laugh rumbling in his chest. "I'll go see who it is," he said, shifting to sit up.

Amaira clung to his arm for a second, pouting. "But I wanted to stay like this a little longer," she whined softly.

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her nose. "Don't worry, baby. I'll be right back."

Reluctantly, she let him go, watching as he got out of bed. He stretched briefly, his tall frame towering in the soft light, before making his way to the door.