Biker-in-law's Death Kiss
It was fitting though, no one could have such eyes in real life, hazel so bright they were almost white, no one except Dash.
I arched under him as his lips trailed kisses down my chest, scolding myself for not thinking of his face now, for fantasizing about the image of the younger him, elegant, and refined before he lost his eye to save me.
…
“Hello mom,” Dash threw his bag on the countertop as I turned around with scrambled eggs.
“We didn’t wake up with a tantrum so early now, did we?” I glanced at the fifteen-year-old, already taller than me.
“I told your home room teacher I’d be unable to make it to PTA today, and would just speak with her on the hologram this weekend.”
Sikat na Kabanata