Red's POV
The morning light spilled across the bedroom, golden and soft, painting her skin in warmth. Destiny was still curled against me, her hair fanned out on the pillow, her breathing even. For a long time, I just lay there, listening to the quiet rhythm of her breaths and memorizing the way she looked in the dawn light—peaceful, safe, mine.
She'd stayed. Another night. And I knew, with bone-deep certainty, that I never wanted her to leave again.
I brushed my knuckles across her cheek, careful not to wake her yet, though my chest ached with everything I hadn't said. The words had been burning in me for days, weeks even. And now, with her here, in my bed, her warmth wrapped around me—I couldn't keep them in anymore.
When her lashes fluttered open, and her eyes met mine with that soft, sleepy tenderness, I felt my resolve break.
"Des," I whispered, my voice rough with nerves. "Would you... would you move in with me?"
