a truer statement could not have been true if someone tried. he had been her from the moment they locked on with each other years and years ago. "yes... i have." he said in a low soft voice, his accent thick as he swallowed thickly. that was the closet he had come to telling her how he actually felt about her. if he was being honest he didn't want them to leave this bed. he wasn't sure he wanted sex at the moment he wanted to just be with her, hold her close and breath her in. he wanted to drink this small quiet moment with her in.
the softest smile moved across his lips as he looked deep into her eyes. "hi." he whispered back and kissed her softly. he moved his weight so he could wrap his arms around fully around her and have her as close to him as possibly be. he took in a deep breath and planted gentle soft kisses on her perfect warm lips. "this is pretty prefect." he breathed out as his eyes closed, his hands gently caressing her gently.
Dua let out a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling against his. The weight of his admission hung in the air, thicker than the breeze drifting in from the balcony. It wasn't just a teasing remark anymore. She felt a sudden, sharp ache behind her ribs, the kind that came from realising youโd finally stopped running and ended up exactly where you were meant to be. As Oliver shifted his weight to pull her fully into his embrace, Dua let her eyes flutter shut. She tucked her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of him. The "perfect" he spoke of wasn't the vintage hotel or the coastline outside; it was the way his heartbeat felt against her own.
For a woman who spent her life curated and watched, this level of being seen was overwhelming. She tightened her arms around him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if she were afraid he might evaporate if she let go. "More than perfect," she whispered into his skin, her voice thick with honesty. She knew they had dinner plans, knew the tavern was waiting, but the world outside the door felt like a distant memory. Right now, the only thing that mattered was the gravity of him, and the terrifying, beautiful realisation that she didn't just want him for the night, she wanted him for every quiet moment in between.
























