▌𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘚
❛ do you know how 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 frustrating it is? ❜ he cut her off. ❛ to have to 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 you? to pretend like i don't feel 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 when i look at you?❜
starr's breath caught in her throat.
❛ because i do...
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chapter FORTY EIGHT from london with love .
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the next morning, starr woke up to the soft hum of london outside her hotel window. the sky was grey, the streets already busy even though it was early. she blinked against the light slipping through the curtains, stretching out the stiffness from the flight. today was the first of their two free days before the premiere.
her phone buzzed on the nightstand. she grabbed it, expecting a message from mark about press schedules or something work-related. instead, it was mason.
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starr stared at her screen, hesitating. they'd spent so much time together lately—plotting, scheming, taking down dylan and ahliya—but that was different. that was strategy. this... this felt like something else. something she wasn't sure she was ready to name yet.
starr sighed, tossing her phone onto the bed. she hated when he did that. but against her better judgment, she got up, got ready, and headed downstairs.
when she reached the lobby, mason was already there, leaning against a column, scrolling through his phone. he looked up when he saw her, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "morning, sunshine," he greeted as she approached, smirking.
"it's too early for your voice," she muttered, stifling a yawn. "where are we going?"
he grinned. "thought we'd do the tourist thing. ever been on the london eye?"
