He was wearing an ivory shirt tucked into tailored pants, hair pushed back neatly. The kids adored him, some clung to his legs, others tugged at his sleeves. And he just kept smiling, talking softly to each one, patient and warm. I remembered the time when he dragged me to the volunteer center when
He stepped closer, eyes flickering to my chest where the tattoo sat still healing and fresh. “I figured it out. Because you are a dramatic bastard. And because it’s exactly the kind of thing you would do.” I huffed a quiet laugh, my heart thudding. “Is that an insult or a compliment?” Kieran roll
Adrien's POV: I woke up with a pounding headache and a bitter taste in my mouth. My eyes cracked open slowly, and sunlight poured into the room like an unwelcome guest, making my eyes hurt. In fact, everything hurts. My throat, my head, my chest. God, especially my chest. I blinked, trying to adju
I left the bathroom and closed the door behind me. But my heart didn’t calm down. My face was burning. My pants were tighter than they should be. And my hands… traitorous. I tried to wait it out on the couch, drumming my fingers, counting seconds. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Twenty. “Fuck,” I
I knew today or tomorrow I will forgive him. I wiped my tears away and looked straight into his eyes. The raw pain, longing, guilt, grief, love I found everything in them for myself. I exhaled loudly and shut my eyes. I exhaled shakily and shut my eyes for a moment. I wanted to tell him I wasn't
Kieran’s POV: That tattoo, it was something that I had never seen before. I paused at the fact that it was my name. Even though it was disguised, I knew. The tattoo was a minimalist crown sharp and angular, unlike any royal insignia I had ever seen. Below it, a date. A subtle set of Roman numerals