Only for You

30: Mine

Two weeks later, Zac leaned up against the wall, watching Fatima in her element. His apartment was dimly lit, the glow from the city skyline casting soft shadows across the space. She had her sketches spread out across his coffee table, completely focused, her pencil gliding over the page as she sat cross-legged on the carpet. Every now and then, she'd pause, tilting her head in thought before adding another stroke.

Her braids were up in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face. She wore an oversized jersey—his jersey—with white socks pulled up just past her ankles, her bare legs stretched out beneath her as she leaned back against the couch. In one hand, she held a wine glass, swirling the deep red liquid as she studied her latest sketch.

Zac exhaled through his nose, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he admired her. There was something about her like this—unfiltered, relaxed, fully in her creative zone. No makeup, no designer heels, just pure, effortless beauty.

She must've felt his eyes on her because she suddenly looked up, brows lifting in curiosity. "What?"

He shook his head, his grin widening. "Why are you so beautiful?"

Fatima's lips curved into a small, amused smile as she took a sip of her wine. "I don't know..." she shrugged, feigning innocence.

He chuckled, pushing off the wall and walking over to her, his tall frame moving with casual ease. Lowering himself onto the carpet beside her, he rested one arm on his bent knee, reaching for one of her sketches with the other. "What you got over here?"

She handed him a few sheets, excitement flickering in her eyes. "Some sportswear, a few suits... because obviously, an athlete's gotta look good on the red carpet, ya know." Her voice carried a teasing lilt as she nudged his leg.

Zac nodded, flipping through the designs. The details, the precision, the sleek yet functional aesthetic—it was all so her. He let out a low hum of approval, glancing at her with a smirk. "These are nice, baby."

"Yeah?" she grinned, pride shining through her expression.

"Yeah," he nods, setting the sketches down and turning to her. "You got some serious talent, Ti."

Fatima takes a sip of her wine, watching him with a soft smile. "Well, I do this for a living."

"And you do it damn well." He leans back on his hands, his gaze lingering on her. "You ever take a second to just... appreciate how good you are?"

She tilts her head, considering his words. "I mean, I know I'm good, but there's always room to grow. Always something new to learn."

Zac chuckles. "That's what makes you great. You don't settle."

Fatima sets her wine down and leans into him slightly, resting her head against his shoulder. "I guess I just want this to be perfect, you know? Axiom is a big deal, and I don't want to screw it up."

He turns his head, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You won't. They're lucky to have you."

She exhales softly, letting his words sink in. His confidence in her is unwavering, and it makes her chest tighten in the best way. She turns to face him, her brown eyes searching his. "Thank you," she murmurs, her fingers brushing lightly over his knee.

Zac smirks, his hand moving to rest on her thigh, tracing slow circles against her skin. "For what?"

"For believing in me," she says simply.

He shrugs, his fingers still teasing her skin. "Always, baby."

Their eyes lock, the energy between them shifting. His hand moves up, tracing the hem of the oversized jersey. She bites her lip, feeling his touch sending warmth through her body.