Page 145 of Sweet Venom

“He bled poetry, and I drank it like salvation.”— P

“Are we there yet?”

“For the fourth time… no.”

Azariel’s tone was flat, but as I looked up at him I caught the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s taking forever and my feet hurt.”

He raised an eyebrow at me.

“We’ve been walking for hours.”

“It’s been five minutes.”

“Are you sure? Because it feels like?—”

“You’re starting to annoy the fuck out of me.”

I grinned like the menace I am. “I know.”

Okay, sure I was being annoying and yes—maybe the first time I asked, I genuinely wanted to know. But after that? Oh, I was absolutely doing it on purpose. There’s just something so satisfying about poking at Azariel’s thin patience and watching his unfeeling expression crack. That tiny crease betweenhis brows? Too adorable. The barely-there sigh of dramatic suffering? I love that the most.

Yes, I’m the only person besides his family he enjoys spending time with but he’s still the ultimate grump. His feelings for me won’t change his nature and I honestly love that about him the most.

Also to be fair, he’s the one who dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn with no context, told me to wear something “comfortable,” and refused to answer a single question after that.

It’s his fault that I’m being a menace.

Walking long distances + early mornings = gremlin on crack mode activated.

Yet somehow, the man has the patience of a saint, even though I can tell he’s hanging on by a thread. I’ve been running my mouth non-stop since we left the manor, and he just keeps nodding and engaging like a pro monk. Honestly, I’m impressed. The only time he tried to shut me up was with a kiss. The beautiful jerk.

Not that I’m complaining.

Two hours in the car, later, my grumpy mood faded, and now I’m buzzing with excitement over whatever magic he’s cooked up for today. Azariel is full of surprises. One day, he’s making all my author dreams come true while watching me with those devastatingly soft eyes. The next, he’s fucking me with a Ghostface mask on while filming it. And then there are days he just sits beside me in silence while we tend to his roses like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I may never fully unravel the mystery of his heart or mind, but hell, I want to spend the rest of my life trying.

Because Azariel has always been and will always be… my sweetest venom and my one and only obsession.

“We’re almost there. Just a little longer,” he rasped, his voice doing things to my insides as he squeezed my hand, thumb brushing soft circles over my skin.

I noticed he did that a lot and the sweet gesture made me feel anchored.

I swear, I’m going to melt every time he does it.

He’s managed to melt every last shard of ice around my heart.

I never thought Azariel was a romantic. And sure, he’s not in the most traditional way, but the man makes me feel like I’m the most precious thing in his universe just by being himself. That’s more than enough for me. That’s everything.

He thinks he’s dreaming, but I’m the one living the fantasy— the dream that is him.

As we walked side by side, I glanced up at him, catching his profile and couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. Hell, I smile so big that my mouth starts to hurt.

He looked so happy just to be here with me, and I melted even more, Full-on silly schoolgirl swoon.

Today, he ditched his usual slacks and crisp shirts for faded jeans and a black T-shirt that hugged him just right, showing off those tattooed sleeves and the ink on his neck I love so much. He looked twice his size and ten times more dangerous. Terrifyingly gorgeous.

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