VivianThe next morning, the room smelled faintly of coffee and sunlight.I woke up to find Vincent already half-dressed, sleeves rolled, phone in one hand, reading something with that quiet concentration that made him look both serious and… unfairly good-looking.“Morning,” I said, stretching beneath the sheets.He turned instantly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Hey. You actually slept in.”“I had a long night,” I said softly, meaning more than the words allowed.His eyebrow arched, amused. “You’re not blaming me for that, are you?”“Maybe,” I teased, sitting up and pulling the blanket closer.He chuckled, leaning against the wall. “Guilty as charged then.”There was something so easy about that — the way our conversation flowed like we’d been doing this for years. No awkwardness. No second-guessing. Just a quiet kind of comfort that felt new and familiar all at once.⸻By the time we made it down for breakfast, my father was already dressed, suitcase beside him.“You’re leaving?” I
Last Updated : 2025-11-11
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