Ava's pov
When I woke up, I didn't know what time it was—only that the sunlight was slipping gently through the sheer curtains, warming the sheets tangled around our legs. I turned my head slowly, and there he was.
Damien.
Sleeping beside me.
His dark lashes brushed his cheek, his lips slightly parted as his chest rose and fell in a rhythm that soothed something raw inside me.
I watched him like a dream I didn't want to wake from.
And then… he stirred.
His eyes blinked open—stormy gray, but softer in the morning light. His arm reached instinctively, pulling me into his chest like he needed to confirm I was real.
"You're still here," he murmured, his voice raspier than ever.
I pressed a kiss to his collarbone. "So are you."
A moment passed. And then another. Neither of us moved to get up. There was no rush, no guilt. Just... breath and bare skin.
He rolled onto me, slowly, like he was memorizing the shape of me all over again. "Morning kisses," he whispered. "And maybe a few more sins before breakfast?"
I laughed breathlessly. "You're insatiable."
"You're addictive," he countered.
The second time was slower. Intimate. Reverent.
He kissed every mark he'd left last night, then left a few more—soft, lingering reminders that this wasn't just a dream. I ran my hands through his messy hair, arching beneath him as our bodies moved together again, like they didn't know how to be apart anymore.
We didn't leave the bed.
Not when noon came.
Not even when the sky turned golden with late afternoon.
Wrapped in sheets, skin against skin, we told each other secrets we'd never said aloud. I traced the scar on his chest. He kissed the faded mole on my hip. I laughed when he tickled my side. He called it his new favorite sound.
We didn't need the world.
Until the world barged in.
BANG BANG BANG.
"Damien, open up! You're ignoring your phone, and Ava isn't answering either! We're worried!" Chloe's voice echoed through the apartment door.
My eyes widened in panic. "Crap!"
He chuckled, entirely unbothered. "Let them wait."
"Damien!"
"Okay, okay—" I pushed at his chest. "We need clothes! And—do not let Ezra see me like this!"
We scrambled. I tugged on his oversized hoodie, he threw on sweatpants, but neither of us thought to check the mirror.
The bedroom door opened just as I tried to fix my hair.
And in walked Chloe and Ezra.
They stopped.
And stared.
Then Ezra let out a low whistle. "Well, well. Someone had a very productive night."
Chloe gasped. "Is that a hickey on her neck?! Ava!"
I slapped my hand over it. "Oh my God."
Damien smirked smugly. "Several, actually."
I shot him a look. "Damien."
Ezra looked like he was barely containing his laughter. "Dude, at least cover up the evidence next time. You're glowing. She's glowing. The room is glowing."
Chloe groaned. "I did not need to see this."
Damien just shrugged, unbothered. "Next time, knock quieter."
"We did, you just ignored us!" Chloe huffed, then softened when she saw me burying my face into Damien's hoodie. "But... I'm glad you're smiling again, Ava."
I looked up.
And smiled.
Because even with the embarrassment, even with Chloe turning red and Ezra still chuckling under his breath, I didn't feel ashamed.
I felt full. Seen. Loved.
Damien reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine.
And somehow, even in the chaos — everything felt right again.
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