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Luca POV

I'm so fucking giddy right now.

I keep looking towards my bedroom door to see if she's awake yet, checking inside to see if she's asleep or in the bathroom or in the shower or if she's flown out of the window to escape me.

If it's the latter, I have a parachute.

Most of the times I just readjust the curtains so no sun can shine in her face.

I look at the breakfast in front of me.

Maybe I went a little overboard.

Eggs, bacon, waffles, pancakes, French toast, avocado toast, egg on toast, smoothies, apple juice— because she doesn't like orange juice with the pulp and that's all I have— protein shakes, milkshakes, macaroons, coffee cake, lemon poppy seed muf... anyways, it's safe to say I was... excited.

I check the clock. It's only been two minutes since I last checked. What's the harm in just one mo— my bedroom doors open.

She emerges, hair going in all different directions, a big t-shirt— my t-shirt— draped across her shoulders and hanging low on her, just below her ass. A pair of my checkered boxers peek out from under it.

She struts down the hallway, a slight limp in her step that makes me think of the things I did to her last night.

Hahahaha. Take that Zane. Fucking annoying rude loser manwhore Zane. She's mine. And now there's proof.

I adjust my sweatpants and glance towards the food, focusing on scrambling the last egg, actually, focusing on anything but that sight.

I feel when she enters the kitchen, my spine going subconsciously straight. She clears her throat, and a smile develops on my lips as I continue to pretend to ignore her. Her foot taps echo around the kitchen.

"Luca." She huffs after a moment or two, and my skin prickles at the awareness of her proximity.

I look over my shoulder with an impish smile that she scowls at, reaching my arm out and around her shoulders to pull her in front of me, her back to my front.

I pull her waist so she's not too close to the stove and brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "Look at the news." She grumbles, finger-combing her tangled hair.

I kiss below her ear. "No Good Morning?" I whisper, dragging my lips across her skin until resting my head on her shoulder.

She turns her head my way and frowns. "No. I can barely walk now because of you." She leans forward, scooping the icing off of a muffin.

I chuckle. This girl is so grumpy in the mornings. "You didn't seem to be complaining last night."

She turns her head over her shoulder again, white frosting on the corner of her mouth that makes me think very unholy thoughts. "How's your nose doing?" She taunts, sticking her tongue to swipe off the frosting.

Not well, if you were wondering. I don't think I've ever had my nose fracture from a single punch.

I smile, letting go of her to watch her go around my kitchen and look at all the food choices.

Luca LaurentWhere stories live. Discover now