Breathe of Lavender

SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW

It started with a drink.

No—scratch that. It started with a stare, then a drink, then a spark that just wouldn’t stop flickering between us.

Liam Foster had this way of talking that made you forget where you were. We sat in that dim, expensive lounge, music humming low, glasses clinking in the background. And we talked. God, we talked about everything. Power. Business. What success felt like. What loneliness tasted like. It was strange how much I enjoyed it.

He listened. Like really listened. Not that half-hearted nod people give when they’re distracted. No. He was present. Sharp. Teasing. And surprisingly kind.

The wildest part? We were both from New York.

Same city. Same breath of hustle in our lungs.

“Can’t believe I had to fly across the world just to meet a girl from my city,” he said, sipping his drink and smiling.

I laughed. I actually laughed. One of those deep, genuine ones I hadn’t felt in a while.

“You’re annoying,” I told him.

“And yet you haven’t walked away.”

Touché.

I didn’t even realize how much we drank. One glass turned into two, then three, and the next thing I knew, I was standing in the elevator with him. Then it was his hallway. Then—

His room.

The lights were soft. Warm. Music still played faintly in the background. I was talking about something—I don’t even remember what—and the next thing I felt was his hand brushing mine.

His voice lowered near my ear. “You know you’re incredible, right?”

I didn’t say anything. I just stood there, my pulse racing, unsure of what would happen next.

His presence was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. There was something calming about it. Gentle, yet grounded.

He removed his jacket and loosened his tie, his eyes never leaving mine. The silence was heavy, but not awkward. Just full of unspoken things.

Then his fingers reached out, touching my arm, sliding gently down until they met my hand.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

That question paused everything. Time seemed to slow down. He wasn’t assuming anything. He wasn’t rushing me. He was asking. Giving me a choice.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He pulled me close, his forehead resting against mine. “You don’t even know what you’re doing to me, Seirra Morgan.”

Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I didn’t want to.

All I knew was—it had been years since I let anyone close.

And somehow… this didn’t feel wrong.

He held me like I was something rare. Precious. Like he wasn’t trying to fix me or take anything from me, but just… hold space for me.

I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was soothing. Steady. Familiar, even though we barely knew each other.

And in that moment, I realized something.

I had been starving—for comfort, for connection, for something real.

Logan never gave me that. He was distant, calculated, cold. He treated our relationship like it was part of his schedule. A checklist. No depth. No meaning. Just duty.

But Liam?

Liam made me feel like I mattered.

Like I was seen.

I lay there, beside him, the dim lighting wrapping us in a kind of peaceful silence. He ran his fingers through my hair gently, saying nothing, just letting the moment speak for itself.

And I didn’t pull away.

I didn’t second-guess.

For once, I allowed myself to feel.

To be still.

To just exist in someone’s arms without apologizing for it.

I looked up at him, and he smiled—soft, tired, but genuine.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think I am.”

I didn’t know what this meant. I didn’t know what would happen tomorrow. Maybe this was just a one-night comfort in the middle of chaos. Maybe it would fade away like most things do.

But that night, something shifted in me.

I let go of a little pain.

I stopped pretending.

And in Liam’s quiet presence, I found a moment of peace I didn’t even know I needed.

We didn’t talk much after that. Just silence, breathing, calm. A shared understanding that no words could touch.

And

when I finally closed my eyes, I slept.

Really slept.

For the first time in what felt like forever.

Sleep came gently, like waves lapping against the shore. My body relaxed against the sheets, and before I knew it, my mind drifted somewhere far away — somewhere softer, somewhere I hadn’t been in years.

I was dreaming.

But it wasn’t just any dream.

It was... beautiful.

I stood barefoot in the middle of a quiet field, the grass soft and damp beneath my toes. Golden light spilled across everything, and the air smelled like fresh rain and blooming lavender. Not the artificial kind from scented candles — real, earthy lavender. Wild and free.

I looked down.

I was wearing a white sundress. Flowing. Simple. Clean.

My hair wasn’t styled or pulled back. It flowed freely down my back like I had no meetings to attend, no people to impress. I was light. Weightless.

I wasn’t alone either.

There was laughter — soft, bright, coming from somewhere close. And then I saw them.

Children.

Two little ones running barefoot through the field, their giggles echoing through the air. A boy and a girl. Both with bright eyes and wild curls. The boy looked like me. The girl had Liam’s eyes.

Liam.

I turned, and there he was.

He stood a few feet away, holding a basket full of flowers and bread, dressed in linen and smiling like the world hadn’t touched him. No suits. No pressure. Just peace.

When our eyes met, he walked over and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“You’re safe here,” he whispered.

And I believed him.

The wind picked up, carrying the scent of baked bread and honey. A little cottage sat at the edge of the field, smoke curling up from the chimney like something out of a storybook.

This dream — this life — it wasn’t about wealth or titles or success. It was about love. Simplicity. Joy.

The kind that didn’t demand. The kind that didn’t break you down to feel worthy.

I sat beneath a tree and closed my eyes, the children still playing, Liam sitting beside me, holding my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for the first time in so long, I wasn’t chasing anything. I wasn’t performing.

I was just me.

Whole. Loved. At peace.

A bird flew overhead. The sky was the softest blue, clouds drifting lazily like they had nowhere to be. Time didn’t matter here. Nothing was urgent.

I didn’t want to wake up.

But slowly, I felt the warmth of reality tugging at the edges of the dream. The softness started to fade. The field began to blur.

I held on for as long as I could.

And just before the dream slipped away completely, Liam whispered one last thing in that golden field.

“You deserve this, Seirra. Don’t forget.”

I woke up to sunlight slipping through the cracks in the curtains. The room was quiet. Still. Safe.