𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 ~| 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘴

Habits

~'~

'𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐱𝐲𝐠𝐞𝐧

𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨

𝐎𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐱𝐲𝐠𝐞𝐧

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈'𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Cassi

I woke up happy.

The kind of happy that settled deep, in the marrow of my bones, stretching through me like sunlight through half-open blinds. The kind of happy that made no sense and perfect sense at the same time, like I had stumbled into something warm and safe without realizing I'd been cold before.

And it was because of him.

God, when had this happened? When had he happened? One minute we were just friends, and the next—well. That.

I still hadn't fully wrapped my head around it. Every time I thought about it, about him, my stomach did this stupid, giddy flip that I had no control over.

It was the way he spoke, soft around the edges in a way that made me think he wasn't always soft, not for everyone, but for me. It was the way his hands had been careful when they touched me, like I was something he wanted to take his time with.

I'd never been kissed like that before.

Not in a way that felt like being chosen.

And honestly? I was mad at us.

Mad that we hadn't been doing this the whole time. Mad that I had wasted months without this. Mad that I hadn't realized sooner that beneath all the teasing and the stubbornness, he had always been gentle.

Because that was the thing about Lando. He was kind.

And it made me want to scream, because how had I never noticed before? How had I spent all this time missing something so obvious?

I didn't know what this was between us. I didn't know if it was something, or if it was just this quiet, golden thing we had stumbled into. But I did know one thing:

He made me happy.

I had never realized how easy happiness could be until now.

It was him.

And, God help me, I liked him.

I liked the way he leaned into me like he couldn't help it, the way his hands always found me, my waist, my wrist, my jaw. I liked the way his touch lingered, like he was memorizing me with his fingertips. I liked how he would sigh against my lips when he kissed me, like he had been holding his breath for too long.

I liked how I could make him unravel.

And he was unraveling.

I could see it in the way he pulled me close, always, like he couldn't stand even a breath of space between us. I could feel it in the way he kissed me, like he needed it more than air. He had this ridiculous, desperate habit of kissing me mid-sentence, like my voice was just white noise and the only thing that mattered was my lips against his.