The Unwanted sister

Chapter 25

Xavier pov:-

She was looking at me like I hung the stars.

I didn't know what I'd done to deserve it—her, this. But she was here. In my bed. In my arms. And the quiet between us wasn't awkward. It was full. Full of every unspoken thing we'd carried between us for years.

Aurora shifted slightly, turning to face me, her eyes searching mine in the low light. Her fingers traced the seam of my sleeve, like she was still getting used to touching me like this.

"Nothing," she said when I asked what she was thinking. "Just... you're really here."

God.

I cupped the side of her face, brushing my thumb gently against her cheek. "Yeah. I'm here."

When she kissed me, I felt the world tilt.

It started soft, just a press of her mouth against mine, but it didn't stay soft. It never did with her. She kissed with every part of her—slow but sure, hesitant but hungry. And I felt it in my spine. In my chest. Everywhere.

I deepened it, pulling her closer until she was practically in my lap. Her skin was warm under my hands, her breath catching when I let my fingers slide beneath her shirt, slow and careful, giving her every second to stop me if she wanted to.

But she didn't.

When she pulled her shirt off over her head, her eyes didn't leave mine. No nerves, no awkwardness—just trust. Raw and unflinching.

"You're sure?" I asked, voice hoarse.

She nodded, and I swear I could feel it echo in my ribs. "I'm sure."

I kissed her again. And again.

I took my time—memorizing the feel of her skin under my hands, the sound of her breath, the way she whispered my name like it meant something more now. Because it did. This wasn't just about want. I'd wanted her forever. This was about love.

When we finally moved together, everything around us went quiet. Even the rain. I'd never felt closer to anyone in my life. Every inch of her, every soft gasp, every sigh—she was giving me all of it. And I gave her everything back.

She looked up at me, eyes wide and glassy, and said it.

"I love you."

It hit like lightning—sweet and devastating in the best way. I hadn't known how badly I needed to hear it until she said it out loud. Until it became real.

I leaned down, kissed her like I'd been waiting to for years, and whispered, "I love you too. So much."

And I meant it with everything I had.

Because this wasn't a beginning. Not really. It was a continuation of something that had always been there—just waiting for us to finally catch up.

I woke up before she did.

It wasn't even that early, just that soft, in-between hour when the world hasn't quite decided if it wants to wake up yet. Light crept through the blinds in faded strips, brushing across her bare shoulder where the blanket had slipped down.

God, she was beautiful.

Not in the dramatic, can't-breathe kind of way. But in that slow, quiet, real way. The way you notice after years of knowing every version of someone. The way you feel when you're not just looking—you're seeing.

She was curled into me, her hand resting over my chest like she was holding onto something important. My heart, maybe.

I shifted just enough to brush a kiss into her hair. She made a soft sound, her face nudging against my skin, still mostly asleep.

And I just lay there, memorizing the moment.

Because I'd had a lot of dreams about being here with her—waking up to Aurora. But none of them came close to this. The real thing was quieter. Simpler. But heavier in the best way.

My fingers drifted across the small of her back, slow, just enough to feel her warmth. I didn't want to move. I didn't want anything to move.

Eventually, she stirred, blinking up at me with that sleepy, dazed look I didn't think anyone else ever got to see.

"Hi," she said, voice rough and soft all at once.

"Hey."

A pause.

Then she smiled. And that was it. That smile was the most dangerous thing I'd ever seen.

"You staring again?" she teased, her voice barely a whisper.

I didn't deny it. "Can you blame me?"

She rolled her eyes and tucked herself further into my side. "You're annoyingly sweet in the morning."

I grinned. "Get used to it."

She went quiet again, her fingers tracing lazy shapes over my chest. I felt her take a breath, felt the way her whole body moved with it.

"Last night didn't feel like a first time," she said.

I knew what she meant. "No. It felt like... everything finally lining up."

"Yeah." She smiled against my shoulder. "Exactly that."

I kissed her forehead. "You're not going anywhere, are you?"

She tilted her head to look at me. "Do you want me to?"

I shook my head slowly. "Never."

And that was the truth. If I could've frozen this moment, bottled it up and carried it with me forever, I would've. But I also knew there were a hundred more like it waiting for us.

So I pulled her in tighter and whispered, "You're it for me, Aurora."

Her breath hitched. Then she nodded against my chest.

"You're it for me too."

"Good"