11. Magnolia Steel
Chapter 11
Magnolia Steel
The private elevator ascends with a soft, steady hum, but the tension between us is anything but subtle. I focus on keeping my breathing steady, but it’s impossible to ignore his scent in this confined space—faint yet intoxicating.
Caesar stands beside me, close but not touching, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his impeccably tailored trousers. He radiates an easy confidence, a presence that only amplifies the tension between us.
The floor numbers tick upward, our destination drawing near, yet time feels excruciatingly slow. Each second drags, stretching the charged energy between us closer to its breaking point.
I steal a glance at him, my heart pounding so fiercely it feels like it could crack a rib. He catches my gaze, and a slow, knowing grin spreads across his face—teasing, confident, as if he’s perfectly attuned to the thoughts swirling in my mind.
The elevator feels impossibly small, the walls pressing in, and him… he’s overwhelming, all-consuming. If he makes even the slightest move toward me, I’m not sure I’ll have the willpower to resist.
And truthfully, I don’t think I want to.
This man’s not looking like a snack. He’s a full-course meal.
The elevator doors finally slide open, and we step directly into the penthouse. My breath catches as the sheer grandeur of the space hits me—soaring ceilings, walls of glass framing the Sydney skyline, and an open-concept layout that feels like it’s been pulled from the pages of a design magazine. Everything gleams—from the polished marble floors to the sleek, modern furniture.
“This is––” I trail off, struggling to find the right words. “This is way too much. You can’t possibly let me stay here for three months.”
“That’s the beauty of owning the hotel. I can do whatever I like. And this place is yours for as long as you stay.”
I wander toward the center of the room, drawn to the towering arrangement of fresh flowers. Roses, orchids, lilies—some so exotic I can’t name them. I brush my fingers lightly over the petals, their delicate fragrance wrapping around me, soft and inviting. It’s the kind of beauty that feels almost untouchable, yet here it is, real and within reach.
“This is mind-blowing.” I say it more to myself than to him.
Caesar slips his hands into his pockets, at ease in the luxurious setting, looking every bit like he belongs here. “It’s all yours.”
My emotions waver between awe and gratitude. “Thank you.”
He inclines his head slightly, the warmth in his eyes genuine. “My pleasure.”
He steps closer, his presence filling the space between us. “Each morning, you can call the kitchen and request your in-room breakfast—only the freshest ingredients, of course. Or, if you’d prefer, you’re welcome to dine at one of the restaurants. And if you ever want something from the bar sent up, it’s yours. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”
I shake my head, stunned. “I can’t let you spoil me like this.”
“Oh, I’m definitely going to spoil you.” A sly grin tugs at one corner of his mouth. “Best three months of your life, remember?”
For a moment, I’m at a loss. The depth of his sincerity and the way he looks at me leave no room for argument.
It’s hard for me to wrap my head around someone wanting to give me everything. I’ve never had that before. I’ve always been the one taking care of myself, figuring things out on my own, never expecting anyone else to step in. The idea of someone being eager to spoil me is foreign, almost impossible to accept.
Caesar gestures for me to follow him, leading me farther into the penthouse. The open layout strikes a balance between sleek luxury and inviting warmth. The oversized sectional faces a wall of glass, perfect for taking in the glittering nighttime skyline. A modern chandelier hangs above a gleaming glass dining table, casting soft light over the space. The kitchen, with its polished marble and stainless-steel finishes, blends into the design—understated but impressive.
He stops near a section of built-in cabinetry, opening a panel to reveal a sleek control system. “This is the surround sound.” His fingers glide over the touchscreen. “You can connect your phone via Bluetooth. It’s wired throughout the penthouse—living area, bedroom, even the bath.”
I arch a brow, intrigued. “You’re telling me I can have my playlists follow me everywhere?”
He grins, the kind that’s equal parts charm and pride. “Every room.”
Without hesitation, I pull out my phone, excitement bubbling up. Music has always been one of my favorite escapes—a pure, unfiltered joy. I’d choose a good playlist over television any day.
Caesar leans casually against the wall, watching me with a faintly amused smile as I navigate through my phone’s settings, pairing it to the penthouse system. A soft hum fills the room as the connection locks in.
“Got it,” I say, more to myself than to him.
“Good.” His arms cross over his chest as he tilts his head, his grin widening. “Let’s hear it. Put on your favorite playlist—I’m curious to learn what kind of music gets you going.”
I scroll through my playlists, landing on the one I always return to—the soundtrack that fits every mood. I tap shuffle, and within moments, the room fills with the unmistakable rhythm of “Straight On” by Heart. The beat pulses softly through the speakers, and I find myself shifting my weight from one foot to the other, a subtle sway in time with the music. My fingers tap lightly against my thigh, the smallest movements betraying how easily the song pulls me in.
Caesar listens for a moment before glancing at me. “I don’t recognize this one.”
I’m not the least bit surprised. “I didn’t think you would. Most people our age are completely clueless when it comes to my music taste—’60s, ’70s, ’80s, ’90s. I’m a little all over the place.”
“You’re into throwbacks?”
“Throwbacks, vintage vibes, timeless hits—call it whatever you want. Music from those decades has a special kind of magic to it. It feels raw and real in a way that sticks with you.”
He nods thoughtfully, then flashes a knowing grin. “Retro Rhythms at the Rabbit Hole must’ve been right up your alley.”
Loved every minute. “Oh, it was perfect. The playlist was spot-on—it was like stepping back in time.”
His grin widens, satisfaction clear in his expression. “I could tell. You looked like you were in your element.”
“What about you? What kind of music do you like?”
“Hip-hop or country.”
I laugh, unable to hide my surprise. “Those are two very different genres but both very cool.”
He shrugs, that easy charm of his on full display. “Sometimes you want something with a beat, and sometimes you need a good story.”
I sink into the plush couch, letting the song wrap around me like a comforting embrace. Music has such a way of softening the edges, making everything feel a little bit lighter.
Caesar sits opposite me, leaning back comfortably with one arm resting along the top, his gaze steady and curious. “So, how did you end up falling for this kind of music?”
“It’s kind of a funny story.” The memory tugs at the corners of my mind. “I grew up in a trailer park. The people who owned it, Leonard and Janet, took me under their wing.”
I catch the spark of curiosity in his expression and cut off the question before it even forms. “And no, before you ask, Leonard wasn’t a creep or anything. He was a good man. He saw a kid who needed someone and decided to step up when no one else would.”
Memories flicker like snapshots in my mind. “Robin and Charlene were gone a lot, so I spent most of my time with Leonard and his wife, Janet. They made sure I was fed and safe. But here’s the funny part about how my taste in music started—one of the tenants at the trailer park was a hardcore music lover. She had this massive collection of vinyls and cassettes—’60s, ’70s, ’80s, ’90s, you name it. She couldn’t pay rent because she spent all her money on music. Anyway, she got caught selling meth and went to jail, so Leonard kept her stuff as payment for what she owed him. Whenever I stayed with Leonard and Janet, we’d dig into that collection and listen to everything. That’s where my love for music really began.”
His expression softens. “Leonard’s the one who left you his estate, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Leonard and Janet lost their only child when she was young. It broke something inside them, something that never really healed. They needed me as much as I needed them. I thank God for them. They gave me stability when no one else did. They were good to me—better than anyone ever had been. Honestly, I don’t know where I’d be today if they hadn’t stepped in.”
“I’m really glad you had them.”
“Me too.” There’s still a bittersweet ache in my chest when I think about them. “I miss Leonard and Janet every day.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the music weaving its way through the air, turning into more than background noise. It feels like a bridge—connecting me to the memories and people who shaped me.
I let the silence stretch for a beat before glancing at him with a small smile, breaking the quiet. “Okay, enough with the heavy stuff. Show me the rest of this place.”
He pushes off the arm of the couch with a casual ease. “Right this way.”
He leads me through the penthouse, casually pointing out features as we go, but it’s the bedroom that truly steals my breath. Understated yet undeniably luxurious, the space exudes quiet elegance. A king-sized bed is dressed in soft linen bedding, flanked by sleek, minimalist nightstands, and a low bench positioned neatly at its foot.
But my eyes go straight past the bed to the floor-to-ceiling windows dominating the far wall.
He gestures toward the windows. “This view is one of the best in the city. You’ve got the whole harbor right in front of you.”
Drawn to the glass, I step closer, my breath catching as the view unfolds before me. The water stretches out in endless ripples, dotted with boats gliding under the moonlight. In the distance, the Sydney Opera House gleams, its iconic sails shimmering with reflected light. It’s the kind of view that could hold you captive, and for a moment, it does.
I sense him behind me. His warmth wraps around me from behind, not quite touching, but anchoring me all the same. He doesn’t touch me, but his presence is impossible to ignore.
The soft hum of “Straight On” drifts through the hidden speakers. Its soulful melody fills the air like it belongs here in this moment, weaving itself around us.
“You weren’t kidding,” I’m caught up in the beauty of the scene. “It’s breathtaking.”
“So are you,” he murmurs, his words low and intimate, behind me.
I don’t turn. I just stand there, the city sprawling out before us, letting the moment settle deep in my chest. For the first time, I realize being here—being with him—is exactly what I want.
He steps closer, his breath warm against the nape of my neck, sending a delicate shiver down my spine. When his lips graze the sensitive spot below my ear, a wave of heat rolls through me, melting every last bit of restraint. His arms wrap around me, strong and secure, pulling me against his broad chest. In his embrace, I feel comfort, desire, and a pull I can’t resist.
“I’ve thought about doing this all night,” he whispers, trailing feather-light kisses along the column of my neck. Each touch of his lips lights my nerve endings on fire, desire igniting deep in my core.
His husky voice brushes against my ear, and a rush of heat flushes through my body. His tender kisses set off a firework of sensations, awakening every inch of my skin. A primal urge takes hold of me as desire courses through my veins, centered deep within me.
I glance back over my shoulder, meeting his heated gaze. His eyes are dark with desire, mirroring my own barely restrained hunger. “I’ve thought about it too.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Then, in a smooth, casual manner, he calls out, “Close window shades.”
The window coverings glide down with a soft buzz, the city lights fading away as they close. The room transforms instantly—warmer, more intimate—while the music wraps around us like a gentle embrace.
He stands closely behind me, delicately brushing my hair to the side and baring the sensitive skin of my neck. A shiver courses through me as his warm exhalation dances over me, followed by the tender pressure of his lips.
His hands glide down my arms, igniting tingling sensations along their path. I surrender into his sturdy embrace, reveling in the warmth radiating from him. He nuzzles against my neck, the bristles of his short beard sending a delightful tremble throughout my body.
A soft gasp escapes my lips as he gently nibbles on my earlobe, and his fingertips glide along my hips, pulling me closer to him. His arousal presses against my lower back, igniting a flame within me. My breath quickens and desire builds in the depths of my core.
“You want this, right?” He pauses for a heartbeat. “I need to hear you say it so there’s no confusion on my part.”
I’ve never had a man ask for my permission. They’re usually too eager to take what they can, rushing in before I have the chance to change my mind and say no.
I turn in his arms, my hands sliding up to cradle his face. As I draw him down toward me, our eyes lock, the moment stretching between us. “I want you to fuck me. Fuck me hard and fuck me good. And when you’re finished, I want you to do it all over again. Is there any confusion on your part about that?”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “No… no confusion at all.”
“Good.”
He reaches down, grasping the back of my thighs and lifts me as though I’m light as a feather. My legs wrap around his waist, and my heels fall off my feet, dropping to the floor.
My breath catches as he presses me against the wall, his strong body pinning me in place. Heat radiates off his skin, and his intoxicating scent fills my nose. He presses his lips against my neck, trailing hot kisses down the side to my collarbone. Instinctively, I tilt my head to the side, bearing my neck to him.
Fuck, this is hot.
He holds on to my hips, pushing my back against the wall. I eagerly reach for his shirt, determined to feel his skin against mine. But those damn buttons won’t cooperate, adding a playful but frustrating struggle to our heated encounter.
Buttons 1 | Magnolia 0
“God, I want to feel you inside me.” Now. And my frustration multiplies as these fucking buttons fight me tooth and nail.
Caesar lets out a low, primal growl and tightens his grip on me. He carries me over to the bed and places me on the soft mattress. He flashes a mischievous grin as he stands over me, unfastening the last of the buttons on his shirt.
Pain-in-the-ass buttons from hell.
He removes his shirt and lets it fall to the ground before crawling on top of me. I don’t get much of a chance to admire the muscular lines of his body or the intricate tattoos that span his chest, shoulder, and arm—but I’ll definitely make time for that later.
I arch my back off the bed and remove my shirt, tossing it over my head to the floor. He focuses his efforts on unhooking and unzipping my pants, slowly pulling them down my legs until they are off, leaving me in only my bra and panties
He gently lifts my leg, his bristled cheek grazing the tender skin of my inner calf. “There’s nothing in the world quite like the softness of a woman’s leg.”
His warm breath dances across my skin as he trails soft kisses up my calf and then thigh. A shiver of anticipation runs through me. His mouth moves higher, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along my inner thighs. I let out a breathy gasp as his mouth approaches the edge of my lacy underwear.
Shit.
Is he going there?
Is he not?
I don’t know.
Do I want him to?
Maybe.
Fuck.
Of course, I want him to.
“I’m obsessed with every inch of you.” He looks up at me with those nearly black eyes. “I haven’t been able to stop wondering what you might taste like.”
“Oh fuck,” I say, mostly to myself, as I fall back on the bed and close my eyes, listening to the music around us, absorbing it. I swear that I’ll never hear Heart’s “Straight On” again and not remember this moment.
He presses his lips against the delicate fabric of my panties, his warm breath tickling my skin through the crotch as he kisses me gently. Then, he runs his tongue over the damp lace, following the cleft of my center. And then he does it again. And then once more.
My teeth sink into my lower lip, muffling my moans as he teases me without mercy. Despite the frustrating barrier of lace between his tongue and where I want to feel him most, it is an exquisite form of torture that only heightens my pleasure.
Raising my head, I gaze down at the top of his head nestled between my thighs. “You’re loving this, aren’t you? Delighting in my torture.”
He looks up and a mischievous smile spreads across his face. “I must say, I’m rather enjoying myself.”
“I believe you may have sadistic tendencies.” And wow, what a beautiful sadist he is.
His tongue darts out and glides over his lips. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Don’t even think about it.”
He lets out a contemplative, low hum, his smile taking on a mischievous edge. “I believe you might have some masochistic tendencies.”
I lie back down, allowing the music to seep into my soul. “If being a masochist means enjoying this kind of torture… then yeah. Guilty as charged. Carry on, sadist.”
And he does.
His thumb traces over the wet lace of my panties, pressing against my clit in small, deliberate circles. My fingers tangle in his hair as he sends waves of sensation through my body.
I can’t believe I’m already this close to coming and he hasn’t even taken off my panties yet.
Don’t come, Magnolia. Not yet, girl. I know it’s been a long time, but it’s too soon. This is only the beginning. You don’t want to miss out on what’s to come.
“Fuck, you smell good… but I can’t play this game with you any longer. I’m torturing my own damn self. And I’m dying to taste you.”
“I eat a lot of pineapple.”
He stops and looks up at me. “ What ?”
God, Magnolia. Why did you say that—especially now? “It’s nothing. I’ll explain later.”
He grabs the waist of my panties, and with a gentle tug, he pulls them past my hips and down my thighs. He then loops his fingers through the waistband and flings my panties across the bed like a slingshot. “You won’t be needing those the rest of the night,” he says, sporting possibly the sexiest smirk I’ve ever seen.
Lifting my legs and gripping my thighs, he pulls me toward him until my body is perched on the edge of the bed. Spreading my legs apart, he lowers himself onto his knees and nuzzles his face against my pelvis, taking a deep breath. A low mmm escapes from his lips as he savors the scent.
I shudder with pleasure as his warm breath teases my sensitive skin.
He delicately spreads my outer lips with his thumbs, then traces his tongue along the cleft between them. As soon as the tip reaches my sensitive clit, my body bucks with a jolt of pleasure.
He chuckles, a deep, throaty sound. “Oh, Charleston, I’m about to have so much fun making you come.”
“I can’t promise you I’ll be quiet when I do.”
“Scream if you like.”
With my lips spread wide, he presses his tongue against my throbbing core. His tongue slides up and down my drenched petals, igniting intense sensations that consume me in ecstasy.
My fingers claw at the sheets as his mouth devours my clit, expertly teasing and tantalizing me. His lips seal over the sensitive nub, applying the perfect amount of pressure as his tongue dances and swirls around it.
I gasp and arch my back, grinding against his face. He slides two fingers inside me, curling them to stroke the most sensitive spot as he continues to feast. The combination of maneuvers sends waves of ecstasy through me, nearly driving me over the edge.
Almost… but not quite.
As his tongue explores, the tension in my groin intensifies, and I feel myself getting closer to the edge. I am completely consumed by the intense pleasure coursing through my body. My breaths become erratic as the anticipation builds, coiling tighter and tighter within me. The sensations are overwhelming, and I am on the brink of euphoria, longing for release.
Soft moans escape my lips as the intense sensations consume me. With his hands now firmly gripping my hips, I’m anchored as the pleasure continues to rise. My entire body trembles with anticipation, teetering on the brink of pure ecstasy.
My breath comes in ragged gasps as he tightens his grip and picks up the pace. Every stroke sends a surge of pleasure through me, building up like sparks, ready to ignite an inferno, until I can’t hold back any longer.
I moan out loud, grasping his hair as the first waves of climax hit me hard. My body convulses and pulses with the intense sensations, reaching their peak. He doesn’t let up, drawing out my pleasure until I’m quivering and breathless.
My body trembles as waves of pleasure wash over me. I’m floating, weightless, enveloped in a warm glow of blissful release. My skin tingles with electricity. I let out a long, contented sigh as the last tremors of ecstasy ripple through me.
My tense muscles slowly unclench as I melt into the sheets, utterly spent and deeply satisfied, savoring every moment of this euphoric haze. A dreamy smile plays across my lips as I bask in the afterglow, savoring every delicious sensation. I feel cherished, desired, alive.
In this perfect moment, all is right with the world.
He slowly moves up my body, his face coming into view above mine. “Well,” he says with a sly smirk, “I’d say we did a pretty good job. Though I may have some lockjaw now.”
I let out a breathless giggle and reach up to caress his stubbly jawline. “Poor thing. I guess I’ll have to kiss it all better.” I pull him closer for a deep, slow kiss, tasting remnants of myself on his lips and tongue.
His hand slides up my side, leaving tingles in its wake. He breaks the kiss and begins trailing his lips along my neck. “Mmm, I think I need more than kisses to recover,” he murmurs against my skin.
I arch into him with a soft gasp as he finds a sensitive spot. “Is that so?” I manage to get out.
He hums in agreement, his breath warm against my neck. “Much more,” he murmurs, his words thick with desire. His hand continues its journey upward, thumb brushing teasingly along the curve of my breast.
I can feel him hard against my thigh, stoking the fire building inside me once again. “Well then,” I breathe, “I suppose I’ll have to take care of you properly. But not with all of these clothes on. Let’s fix that.”
He gives me a brief kiss before standing up. In one swift motion, he unfastens his pants, and I sit up, quickly removing my bra. My eyes eagerly take in every inch of him as he removes his pants, revealing the throbbing length that I crave so desperately. I bite my lip with anticipation, ready to give myself completely to him.
His eyes are filled with longing as he comes back to me. I reach out and run my fingers over his skin, savoring the way his breath catches at my touch. He guides me down onto the bed and covers me with his body, the intensity between us palpable as he captures my lips in a passionate kiss.
As his fingers trace the curves of my body, a wave of pleasure washes over me. I arch into him, aching for more of his touch. His lips break away from mine and he trails kisses down my neck, leaving a fiery trail in their wake. A soft moan escapes my lips as I tangle my fingers in his hair, lost in the moment.
When he reaches my ear, he whispers, “I want you, Charleston. So much.”
The raw need in his voice makes me whimper, and I tug him up for a passionate kiss. Our tongues tangle as his hips grind against mine. I feel how hard he is against my slick entrance.
“Please,” I gasp, not even sure what I’m begging for.
But he knows.
With a gentle but firm push, he slides inside me, and I gasp at the sudden fullness. Our bodies mold together perfectly as we lay forehead to forehead, feeling our heartbeats synchronize with the rhythm of our movements. We both moan in unison, reveling in the overwhelming pleasure of being united in such an intimate way.
He shifts his weight on top of me, resting on his elbows and gazing into my eyes with an intense look. Our breaths mingle as he thrusts in a slow rhythm, gradually increasing in speed. I wrap my legs tightly around his waist, pulling him closer until our bodies are pressed together. The friction between us is electrifying, sending waves of pleasure through every nerve in my body as we move together in perfect synchrony.
Our bodies writhe together in a frenzy of passion, slick with sweat and tangled limbs. I dig my nails into the hard planes of his back as he devours my neck with his mouth. The heat between us rises to a fever pitch, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.
His powerful thrusts bring me right to the edge, and with one final cry, I reach the peak of ecstasy. Again.
“Fuck, Charleston. Fuck.”
He grunts and moans against my neck, finding his own release moments after mine. Our bodies tremble and our breaths mingle as we come down from our shared high.
Our bodies meld together as one, our breaths ragged and heavy. A sense of complete fulfillment washes over me, like I’m floating on a cloud of pure ecstasy. We lay intertwined, reveling in the tranquil aftermath of our passionate union, unmoving except for the rise and fall of our chests as we bask in the warm afterglow of our intimate connection.
He pulls out of me and rolls onto his back. I snuggle into the crook of his arm, feeling his chest rise and fall rapidly as his breathing slows. My fingers trace over the rippling muscles on his stomach, still heated from our passion.
I inhale deeply, savoring his musky scent mixed with sweat and sex, my body still tingling with residual pleasure. I trail my fingertips higher, swirling around his nipples and along his collarbone. He sighs contentedly, one hand stroking my hair while the other caresses the curve of my hip.
“That was––” I start, searching for the right words.
“Perfect,” he says, the words a low rumble that seems to resonate through his chest.
A smile tugs at my lips as I tilt my head to meet his gaze. “Yeah, it really was.”
His hand glides softly up and down my arm. “Skipping protection was reckless… but I can’t say I regret a single second of it.”
“So reckless,” I agree, my smile widening. “But very, very good. No regrets here either.”
He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath my cheek. “I’m ruined now. How am I supposed to use condoms with you after having the best sex of my life without them?”
I lift my head slightly, a teasing smile playing on my lips. “The best sex of your life, huh?”
“Hands down.” The certainty in his words wraps around me. “Nothing else even comes close.”
A blush creeps across my face. “It was the best sex of my life too.”
His hand strokes gently through my hair, the tender gesture sending a wave of warmth through me. “I’m happy to hear that.”
“You don’t need to worry about a pregnancy. I have an IUD.”
He shrugs. “I’m not worried. I knew you’d be on some kind of birth control.”
“You seem pretty sure about that.” I prop myself up on one elbow to get a better look at him.
“You’re clearly a woman who’s got things figured out and doesn’t leave important things to chance,” he says with a wink.
“Oh really? And what else have you deduced about me, Sherlock?”
He pretends to ponder, his fingers still lazily threading through my hair. “Let’s see. You’re smart, ambitious, and you act like you don’t need anyone. But deep down, I think you want someone who sees you—really sees you.”
His words resonate deeper than I expect, brushing against a part of me I keep locked away. And I feel more exposed than I’m comfortable with. “That’s a bold assumption.”
His gaze holds steady, unwavering. “Not an assumption. Just an observation. And apparently you eat a lot of pineapple ? Care to elaborate?”
I smirk, tilting my head. “You know what they say about women eating pineapple, right?”
One brow lifts in curiosity. “Enlighten me.”
I lean in slightly, lowering my voice enough to tease. “It’s supposed to make a woman… taste sweeter.”
A slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. “Must be true then. Because you’re pretty damn sweet.”
Heat floods my cheeks, but I manage to keep my composure. “Oh? Is that so?”
He leans in enough to make my pulse stutter. “I’m happy to keep testing the theory… for the sake of science.”
I bite my lip, letting the moment stretch between us for a moment. “Well, I’m always willing to contribute to scientific discovery.”
The heat in his gaze makes it clear we’re toeing a dangerous line. I swallow, searching for something—anything—to steady myself.
He’s read me pretty accurately so far, but I want to know more about him. “You seem to have me all figured out. Tell me what you want in life.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his hand still lightly tangled in my hair. Then, with a quiet exhale, he simply says, “Peace.”
The single word hangs between us, uncomplicated yet profoundly heavy. It settles somewhere deep inside me, resonating in a way I understand far more than I’d like to admit.
The next song thrums softly in the background, wrapping around us as the silence stretches. In this moment, I realize something unexpected: being here with him, in this space, might be the closest I’ve ever come to finding peace myself.
And maybe—just maybe— that’s what makes this so dangerous.