Afterlight (Fanfiction) ✓

chapter thirty-six

Chloe

     I woke on silken sheets, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the gnawing emptiness beside me. Justin was gone, and the stillness of the bed left a hollow ache in my chest. My heart began to quicken, the butterflies in my stomach taking flight. The absence of his warmth next to me was unnerving, an ominous weight pressing against my ribs.

I let out a quiet sigh and slid out of bed, the cool floor grounding me for a moment. The house was eerily quiet as I stepped into the hallway, my feet brushing against the carpet as I tiptoed down the stairs. When I reached the bottom, the sound of rustling paper drew my attention. Following it, I found Justin seated at the dining table, counting tall stacks of money that gleamed under the dim morning light.

My breath hitched, my mouth parting in shock. The sheer amount of cash was staggering. It looked like something out of a heist movie. I blinked, trying to ground myself, but the scene was so surreal I almost expected to wake up again.

"Good morning, princess," Justin said with a yawn, standing from his chair. His voice was groggy, his hair slightly tousled from what I assumed had been a restless night. He stepped forward and pulled me into a tight embrace, his arms circling my waist in that familiar, grounding way that only he could manage.

"Good morning," I murmured, still staring past him at the money. Pulling back slightly, I kissed him softly, then pointed at the table. "What is all of this?"

He smirked, his usual devil-may-care charm returning as he looked at the stacks of bills. "Oh, this?" He waved it off like it was pocket change. "Just some light morning arithmetic."

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress a small laugh despite myself. "That's not an answer."

"It's a answer." His grin widened mischievously, but he didn't elaborate. Instead, he pulled me toward him again, this time guiding me onto his lap as he sat down in the chair. His strong arms curled around me, one hand smoothing across my cheek.

"Justin..." I warned, though my tone lacked any real sharpness.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," he said, chuckling. His thumb traced circles on my flushed skin, his gaze fixed on me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. "Let me just enjoy this moment before you start grilling me again."

I rolled my eyes but relented, easing out of his hold before things spiraled too far, too quickly. Ignoring the heat creeping up my neck, I walked to the kitchen, deciding I needed something to focus on other than Justin's maddening smile. Opening the refrigerator, I began pulling out ingredients for an omelette. The routine of cooking always grounded me, and I could already feel the tension in my shoulders beginning to ease as I cracked eggs into a bowl.

Behind me, I heard the creak of the chair, followed by steady footsteps. Before I could turn, I felt his presence, warm and close. His inked arms slid around my waist, his hands resting on my hips as his chest pressed against my back.

"You smell so good," he murmured, his voice low and husky. His lips brushed against the nape of my neck, sending a shiver racing down my spine. "And the food smells good too, of course," he added teasingly.

I laughed softly, tilting my head slightly as his lips lingered. "It's just an omelette," I said, shaking my head at his dramatics. "My mom used to make the best ones. It took me years to figure out her secret."

Justin leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. "And what's the secret?" he asked, his voice a rasp that sent a thrill through me.

I smirked, turning my head just enough to catch his gaze. "It's a secret for a reason. You'll just have to keep guessing."