ELIJAH When I woke up, sunlight was cutting through the curtains in narrow, golden strips. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. The room was far too elegant to be mine, the sheets smoother, the air perfumed faintly with cologne and whiskey. Then I turned my head, and I saw him. Andrade. He was lying beside me, bare-chested, one arm thrown lazily over the pillow. The sunlight kissed his skin, tracing the faint scars across his shoulders, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. My chest tightened with something heavy and confusing, contentment and fear tangled together. Last night replayed in flashes, smiles, closeness, his voice low against my ear, his hands on me. His lips on me, his tongue in me, he in me. I should’ve felt shame. Guilt. Something sharp. But I didn’t. Instead, I felt still. Whole, even. I could feel the small smile tugging at my lips. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t regret anything. Not what I’d said, not what I’d done, not even t
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-11-14 อ่านเพิ่มเติม