Page 357 of Eternal
He reaches up and starts gathering my curls in his hands. “So… you start with this?”
I chuckle, watching him carefully follow the routine. “Yeah. You gotta be gentle, no pulling.”
He frowns in concentration, trying to get it right. “I think I’m learning.”
I smile softly. “You’re doing better than most.”
His fingers thread through my curls again, this time slower, like he’s savoring the feel. “I love your hair.”
I shrug, a little vulnerable. “They used to be ugly. I wasn’t allowed to take care of them when I was younger.”
He leans down, lips brushing the shell of my neck. “I’ll wash them. Take care of them.”
I sigh, leaning into the warmth of him. “Romantic much?”
He grins against my skin. “What can I say? I’m the perfect partner.”
I laugh softly, dream-heavy. Inside, I feel sharp edges of old pain, like I’m glass again, broken in pieces. Every touch risks cutting him. But he doesn’t pull away.
Instead, his hand slides down, resting on my stomach.
Warm.
His hand is so warm…
His fingers draw lazy circles and I close my eyes, but his arms tighten around me, holding me like I matter.
Sleep claws at me, exhaustion breaking through years of guardedness.
I want to pull away, afraid to let myself fall, but I don’t.
His voice is soft in my ear. “You can rest. I’m here. Let’s go to bed, Azra.”
I nod, and we climb out of the bath, tired. He quickly dries us both with a towel, then helps me slip into a loose t-shirt and then he puts on his shorts.
I close my eyes, trying to memorize the feel of his hands, the scent of soap and skin, the soft scrape of his breath against my neck.
He dries my hair gently, his fingers soft and careful against my scalp. Then he takes my hand and leads me back to the bedroom.
As I settle into bed, he sits beside me, brushing my hair back, slowly, thoughtful.
Tears sting my eyes. He’s so gentle it actually hurts. Gentle with me.Me. The girl who’s never been gentle with herself.
I don’t deserve this, but he’s here anyway.
“Tomorrow,” he says quietly, “We’ll pack some of your stuff. Then you’ll stay at my apartment, okay?”
I nod. “I’m excited. Are you going to cook for me every day?”
He chuckles, gripping my unfinished braid tight before pulling my head back and kissing me.
“I’ll cook for you every day and eat you out every night, I promise.”
A laugh escapes me, so real it’s scary.
I close my eyes, feeling the softness of his touch, his breathing on my back. I like it. I don’t want to forget. I want to remember. It feels warm, delicate. I really like this feeling.
“You know,” he murmurs, “I never thought I’d care about something like this.”
