LUTHER
Fucking Blaze.
Tss. Since when did he get so f*****g bold?
I watch him, sprawled out, lips swollen, cheek pressed into the pillow like he didn’t just ruin me, like he didn’t just make me forget how to breathe. He’s snoring softly, blissfully unaware that I’m wide awake, staring at him like an i***t, like some love-sick bastard who doesn’t know better.
I should get up.
I should leave before he wakes up and says something stupid, something that’ll make me stay—because I shouldn’t. Because I can’t.
But I don’t move.
Instead, I shift closer. Just an inch. Just enough to breathe him in, to feel the heat rolling off his skin.
Fucking Blaze.
Mine.
I exhale sharply, running a hand through my hair, jaw tightening. Since when did he get so f*****g bold? Since when did I let him?
M
