Liana's sun-lit kitchen, morning after the chaos.
She stood at the stove in nothing but an oversized white shirt (buttons straining heroically) and black lace panties, flipping heart-shaped pancakes with a soft smile.
Ariel sat at the counter, still in her borrowed silk pajamas, long silver hair messy from sleep, violet eyes watching her every move like she was the only thing in the universe.
The smell of vanilla, strawberries, and fresh coffee filled the apartment.
Liana slid the last pancake onto the plate, added extra whipped cream and a single strawberry on top, shaped like a heart.
She placed it in front of him.
"Eat, pretty boy. You're still growing."
Ariel poked at the pancake, cheeks pink.
"I… I want to spend more time with you," he said, voice small but determined. "Like… all the time."
Liana leaned on the counter, shirt dipping dangerously low.
"I want that too, baby. But work—"
"Can't you take a holiday?" he asked, eyes pleading.
She opened her mouth to say the usual "impossible"… then remembered the last 72 hours of hell.
Terrorist attacks.
Council screaming.
Her boss fucking a general on the desk while the city burned.
She let out a long, exhausted laugh.
"You know what? Screw it. I deserve a break."
She grabbed her phone, dialed.
Seraphina picked up on the second ring, sounding suspiciously out of breath.
"What is it, my favorite secretary?"
"Boss… I need a few days off. Like, starting now."
A soft moan in the background, then Seraphina's cool voice:
"Approved. Take a week. You've earned it."
"Thanks, boss."
Click.
Liana turned back to Ariel, who was staring with those huge hopeful eyes.
"So?" he asked.
She walked around the counter, cupped his face, and kissed him slow and sweet.
"I have seven days off… and you have my full attention."
Ariel's smile lit up the entire kitchen.
"Yes! We can finally go on a real date!"
Liana laughed, pulled him into a hug, his face pressed happily against her chest.
"Breakfast first, pretty boy. Then we're spending the whole day in bed… and out of it."
She ruffled his hair.
"Welcome to your holiday."
Capital's biggest luxury mall – Saturday afternoon
Liana and Ariel walked hand-in-hand through the crowds, both in oversized sunglasses and caps (her idea of "disguise").
She wore a simple black sundress that hugged every curve.
He wore one of her silk shirts (way too big) and skinny jeans she'd bought him that morning (looked illegally good on his slim frame).
First stop: a high-end boutique famous for couple matching outfits.
Liana held up two soft pastel hoodies (one baby pink, one mint green).
"Pick your poison, pretty boy."
Ariel turned bright red.
"…Both?"
She laughed, kissed his cheek, and bought them.
Next: the dye-your-own-clothes corner (trendy pop-up station).
They picked plain white oversized tees and hoodies, rolled up sleeves, and got to work.
Liana tied her hair back, leaned over the table, tongue poking out in concentration as she painted tiny silver hearts on Ariel's sleeve.
Ariel, cheeks flaming, carefully wrote "Liana's ♡" in elegant script across the chest of her hoodie.
Every time their hands brushed, he shivered.
Every time he looked up and saw her smiling at him, his eyes turned into little hearts.
An hour later:
Liana wore a white cropped hoodie with "Ariel's big sis ♡" in his handwriting across her chest, sleeves dyed soft lavender.
Ariel wore an oversized white hoodie with "Liana's pretty boy" in her looping script, tiny hearts scattered everywhere, sleeves pastel pink.
They looked like the cutest, most dangerously wholesome couple in the entire mall.
Liana pulled him into the changing-room mirror for a selfie.
"Perfect," she declared, kissing his temple.
Ariel stared at their reflection, eyes shining.
"I'm never taking this off."
She wrapped arms around him from behind, chin on his head.
"Good. Because I'm keeping you in it forever."
They left the mall wearing their new matching outfits, holding hands, ignoring every stare.
Luxury cinema – top-floor private screening room (the one with the huge reclining couples seats and zero cameras)
Liana had booked the entire back row for "privacy."
The movie: the new blockbuster superhero film everyone was hyping.
The reality: someone had swapped the reel for the uncensored "after-dark" version (18+ cut, full frontal, actual sex scenes).
Lights dimmed.
Opening scene: the hero and villainess going at it on a rooftop.
Liana glanced at Ariel, saw his wide violet eyes fixed on the screen, cheeks flaming.
She smirked.
Leaned over, whispered:
"Too much for you, pretty boy?"
Ariel swallowed, shook his head.
Liana slipped off her jacket, climbed into his lap facing him, dress riding up.
The seat reclined fully with one button.
Perfect.
She freed him with practiced fingers (he was already rock-hard), pushed her soaked panties to the side, and sank down slow in one smooth motion.
Ariel's hands flew to her waist, eyes rolling back.
On screen, the heroine was riding the hero exactly the same way.
Liana started moving: slow, deep rolls of her hips, matching the actress beat-for-beat.
Every time the heroine moaned, Liana clenched.
Every time the hero thrust up, she ground down harder.
Ariel whimpered into her neck, trying so hard to stay quiet.
She cupped his face, forced him to look at her.
"Eyes on me, baby. Not the screen."
He obeyed, violet eyes glazed with hearts.
The theater filled with wet sounds and muffled gasps from the movie… and from them.
Liana rode him through the entire second act (slow, then faster, then torturously slow again).
When the on-screen couple came in a dramatic close-up, Liana slammed down one final time and clenched hard.
Ariel bit her shoulder to stay silent, filling her as she milked every drop.
They stayed locked together through the credits, breathing hard, her forehead against his.
Movie ended.
Lights stayed off (Liana had paid extra for that).
She kissed him soft and sweet.
"Best superhero movie ever."
Ariel, still inside her, could only nod, completely ruined and utterly in love.
Private beach – late afternoon, golden hour
Liana and Ariel walked barefoot along the shoreline, fingers laced tight, the warm waves kissing their ankles.
She wore a simple white bikini and an open linen shirt fluttering in the breeze.
He wore black swim trunks and one of her oversized hoodies (the one that said "Liana's pretty boy" in her handwriting), sleeves rolled up, hair dancing in the wind.
No phones.
No missions.
No one else for miles.
Just the two of them, the ocean, and the sky turning cotton-candy pink.
They found a smooth spot near the water, sat side by side, legs stretched out in the wet sand.
Ariel leaned his head on her shoulder.
Liana rested her cheek against his hair.
For a long time, neither spoke.
The sun sank lower, painting everything gold.
Ariel finally whispered, voice soft:
"I used to think I'd never feel safe again…
and then you found me."
Liana squeezed his hand.
"You're home now, pretty boy.
And I'm keeping you."
He smiled, small and real, eyes reflecting the sunset.
They stayed like that until the sky turned deep purple and the first stars appeared.
No kissing.
No touching beyond their joined hands and his head on her shoulder.
Just two people who'd been through hell…
finally getting one perfect, quiet evening.
The waves kept rolling in.
And for once, everything was calm.