Daria When I enter my room, scan the grey walls and the white pillows on my bed, I can tell something is wrong. That feeling, like someone has been in my room uninvited, drapes over me like a blanket. Without thinking twice about it, I begin scanning the area, check if anything has been stolen. Killian spent a lot of time in the bathroom—perhaps he grabbed a souvenir? I search under every pillow, let my eyes dart from shelf to shelf, from book to book, but everything seems to be in order. Groaning, I brush my fingers through my hair, spinning around when I hear approaching footsteps. "Daria?" Brooklyn is behind my door. "Do you want tea before you're heading to bed? Smith made an entire can." The door opens without Brooklyn even asking for permission. I'm staying in her apartment, though, so I can't complain. "No, I'm good," I sigh heavily at the sense of something missing growing inside of me. "I don't know why, but I have thi

DariaKillian's apartment is downright luxurious, with a new white couch that makes me worry I'm dirtying it by simply sitting in its corner. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling above us, and his loud TV takes up the entire wall. The big man has spoiled me too—his antique coffee table is filled with bowls: popcorn, dip, and chips are all there, tempting me.Yet I'm perfectly happy with the hot chocolate in my hands. I'm blowing on it while trying to focus on the documentary about sharks we are watching rather than pay notice to my fluttering nerves.Killian is munching on popcorn. He fills his entire paw with buttery treats, and my cheeks redden at the crunching sound that I'm paying way too much attention to—I'm super conscious around him, probably because I like him so much.Will he notice if I steal a glance?I cautiously glance to my left, then quickly sip on my chocolate with my heart turning savage. One look at that gorgeous face,

Killian When I wake up the following day, the loss of Daria's warm body by my side is the most obvious. Part of why I went to bed with a smile is the fact that I knew I could cuddle her in the morning. Did she change her mind about us and leave me? Why? Everything was so perfect with her yesterday, and the sex was amazing. Dread circles around my chest, making it harder to breathe, until the bedroom door opens and Daria walks in. She carries a tray with orange juice stacked on top. There is also fruit, toast, yogurt, and bacon, and I stare at her smiling, rosy face. "I made us breakfast!" She announces, beaming at me. Beyond surprised, I sit up in bed, taking the tray from her hands as she climbs back into bed. "Gosh, it's cold in here!" She shudders vocally and pulls the thick blanket over her thin, milky legs, digging her frail shoulders into the large pillow behind her that seems to swallow her. Beautiful, emerald ey

KillianThe day I've feared for has come, and every minute seems like an entire year.Daria is getting prepared for surgery. There is a heavy cloud hanging low over my head, raining and making the scene seem grey. If anyone can survive this operation, then it's Daria. Yet, I'm still worried and barely slept tonight.I held on to Daria for dear life, holding her close until she eventually fell asleep to the beating of my heart. It was sweet, but I regret not telling her how much I love her.I'm a weakling for not being able to say it. My brain seems to believe losing her won't be as painful if I haven't spoken the words burning at the tip of my tongue.I love her so much.I need her.I want a future with her.Why are those things so hard to put into words?I stare down at the floor, inhaling deeply at my phone acting up again. Ava hasn't left me alone all day. She sold the story about me dating Daria to the media without

DariaI'm holding Killian's hand. It's been days, and he still hasn't opened up his eyes, but the flowers in his vase are exchanged. I thought yellow daisies would suit him and plucked some from outside."The yellow color makes me happy," I'm speaking, hoping Killian can hear my voice even with his severe head trauma. His room is filled with flowers from various fans, but mine are the ones on the table. "And even though you've received more expensive flowers from your fans and Wilder, I think you would prefer the ones directly taken from the street."I glance down at his long, dark eyelashes, fanned out over his cheeks as he breathes. Without meaning to, I shed a tear but immediately tell myself to brighten up. I squeeze his hand and peer out through the window behind his hospital bed.For days, I've cuddled up to his lifeless body when no one has been watching. My soul misses him, so I talk with him as if he can hear me, not caring if I'm mad. I brush hi