Chapter 2: The Morning After
410 Words
The sun was barely up, but I was already awake.
Not because of the light.
Not even because of the ache in my body from the night before.
Because of her.
Tia—curled up in my sheets, wearing nothing but her sleep and my bite marks.
Her back rose and fell gently with each breath, hair messy, lips slightly parted. Her leg was thrown over mine like she was trying to claim me even in her dreams.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t want to.
Just watched her, memorizing the way her body looked when she wasn’t trying to be anything. Not sexy. Not smart. Not strong. Just… hers. Real.
I lifted my hand and traced the curve of her waist with my thumb, stopping where a red mark bloomed on her hip.
I did that.
And last night?
She wanted me to.
I smiled at myself, quietly, like I was afraid to wake the dream. But even the silence felt different to her in it—less lonely, more alive.
Then, she stirred.
“Mmm,” she whispered, still half-asleep, “stop staring and come kiss me.”
I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Who said I was staring?”
“You’re not exactly subtle,” she said with a smirk, eyes still closed. “I can feel your eyes like heat.”
“I could feel you like fire all night,” I murmured into her neck.
She turned around, slowly, eyes fluttering open, face inches from mine. And just like that—I was gone again. Completely. Stupidly.
“Morning,” she whispered, brushing her nose against mine.
“Morning,” I whispered back, sliding my hand up her bare thigh. “How do you feel?”
“Ruined. Sore. Starving.”
She kissed me softly. “And very, very satisfied.”
We both laughed, but it melted into something slower, something more intimate. I cupped her cheek, letting my thumb brush over her bottom lip.
“You looked so peaceful,” I said. “I didn’t wanna wake you.”
“I feel safe with you.”
She said it so easily. So simply. But it hit like thunder.
My throat tightened. “I hope you always do.”
She kissed me again—this time deeper, slower, pulling me on top of her. But this wasn’t last night. This wasn’t desperate or rough.
This was something else.
Something like love.
- Writer
