❝𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐃?❞
"He sculpts your body through such mesmerisation, his peering eyes peeling and dipping beneath the layer of skin thatʼs perched against you...
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5.8k words: a summary of this chapter: the reader discovers versatility in her new life, but her heart lacks a known substance. Though she attempts to etch at the source, it fails to dim itself, falling into a pit of sombreness. Is the sombreness pitiful, or something formulated to cling to the effortless strings of the past?
a summary of acts: time skip, new beginnings, mystery, disbelief, doubt, hesitation, betrayal, and beautiful alignments + more. proceed with caution + ignore errors.
Heat blooms. Heat blooms against your tender skin as you intake the softness of the humming grass. Your supple skin caresses each blunt blade whilst the grass engulfs you, the sun painting your skin with love.
It is a love you could only chuckle at. Andreaus lingers beside you, scoffing at the ignorant bliss you discover, in the moment.
The happiness you display, it is one that's complexity twins with the false one you planted for him to be okay. You did so, just so he wouldn't worry. But that never worked.
However, he now discovers that you are truly happy, at this moment. Especially as you yawned, rolling closer to him as you chuckled.
You are so carefree, relishing the garden in Sasha's castle — it reminds you so much of home. The field is riddled with ampleness, gifting you the privacy you were rarely able to seek.
A privacy that no longer requires you to be endlessly harassed by paparazzi, ones who desire to pick a quick buck.
Peace, it is finally in sight. All you ever wanted is for the sun to kiss upon your rich skin, the grass to share laughs with you, and the sky to paint a beautiful art for you to gaze upon.
"What has you so happy?" Andreaus' facade shatters at your contagious smile. He finds hope, within such carefree moments, particularly with you.
"The fact that we've been here for a week, and it's been beautiful," You lay further against the grass, "It's starting to feel like home, André." He winces at your words, only to plant his hand against your cheek, clearing another blade of grass.
