The first sliver of sunlight slipped past the curtains, soft gold spilling across the room.
Bella stirred, her lashes fluttering before her gaze landed on the unexpected weight pressed against her chest. Lucas.
His head rested just above her heart, his dark hair tickling her skin as he breathed in steady, warm rhythms. One arm was draped heavily around her waist—his hold more like a fortress than an embrace—pulling her into him even in sleep.
She froze at first, unsure how to move without waking him, but the rise and fall of his breath soothed her nerves. Slowly, carefully, she lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. He didn't stir. Instead, he tightened his grip around her, pulling her closer until their bodies fit flush against each other.
"Lucas," she whispered softly, her voice cautious, as though speaking too loudly might shatter this fragile moment.
He didn't wake. His brows twitched, lips parting slightly as if chasing a thought buried deep in his dreams. Then, in a voice rough and unguarded, he murmured, "Bella… don't run. Let's walk slowly… okay?"
Bella's heart clenched. She lay still, stunned, then let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Carefully, tenderly, she let her fingers thread through his hair, stroking gently in a rhythm that matched the beat of her heart.
She wasn't sure why she did that, but she knew she kind of liked it—liked the way he said her name, liked that he was holding her right now, liked that he was dreaming of her.
He sighed, his face burrowing deeper against her chest, his arms winding around her as if afraid she'd disappear. And though he was lost in sleep, every word, every small movement felt so achingly real that Bella couldn't bring herself to correct him—to remind him she wasn't running anywhere.
Her lips curved into a faint smile. Two strangers, thrown together by circumstance, and yet—here they were. Lying in bed, clinging to each other as if they had been doing it for years. As if this was the only way they knew how to sleep.
The thought warmed her—unsettling and comforting all at once. Her life had never felt steady before, but with Lucas pressed so tightly against her, it was as if stability had finally found her.
For a long time, she stayed like that—watching him breathe, feeling the weight of his arm, listening to the vulnerable little murmurs that slipped from his lips.
He was a fortress in the day—an unshakable wall of control and confidence—but right now? He was just a man, tangled in sleep, seeking comfort in her arms.
And Bella, surprisingly, didn't mind giving it.
Lucas stirred, a low groan vibrating against her chest. His eyes cracked open—dark and unfocused—and for a brief moment, he seemed uncertain where he was. Then they sharpened as they found hers.
"Morning," Bella whispered, a small smile teasing her lips.
He blinked slowly, then grunted in response, nuzzling closer. Surprisingly, he hadn't hesitated to be close to her these past few days. Maybe they had already passed the awkward stage in their relationship.
"Bella…" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "You… you're warm."
Her fingers trailed through his hair, and he pressed his forehead against hers again, arms tightening.
"Don't leave me," he muttered, almost pleading.
Bella giggled softly. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered. Then, teasingly, she added, "Though you talk in your sleep… quite… cutely."
Lucas's eyes snapped open wider, a faint flush creeping into his cheeks.
"Do I now?" His voice was low, edged with both sleep and something darker that made her pulse hitch.
"Yes," she said, voice barely audible, leaning closer. Then, her heart beat faster as she added, almost shyly, "About last night, you know…"
Lucas's lips curved faintly, his voice still husky from sleep.
"Hmm," he murmured, pretending not to understand. "You mean the part where I nearly lost my mind… or the part where you didn't stop me?"
Her cheeks flushed a soft pink. "I didn't know what to do," she admitted, half hiding her face in the pillow. "You were… different."
"Different how?" he pressed, his tone lazy and teasing—but his eyes held that same heat from last night, banked but not gone. Looking at him now, she wondered how he could change his expression so quickly.
Bella's fingers fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. "You were… intense," she whispered finally. "It felt like if I moved, the whole room would catch fire."
Lucas chuckled lowly, the sound rumbling against her chest. "It wasn't the room that was burning, sweetheart. It was me."
He shifted slightly, looking straight into her eyes, his thumb brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek.
"I'm sorry if I scared you."
Her gaze softened. "You didn't," she said quickly. "Just… surprised me."
He exhaled, relief flickering across his face. Pulling her close, he rested her head on his shoulder.
"Good. Because you have no idea how hard it was to walk away after that."
He paused, his mouth quirking into a faint smirk.
"I think my shower almost froze the pipes."
Bella burst into laughter before she could stop herself, burying her face against his shoulder to hide it.
"Serves you right," she mumbled between giggles. "Maybe next time, you'll think twice before… losing control like that."
"Next time?" he repeated, his grin widening. "So you're saying there'll be one?"
Her head shot up, eyes wide. The way he said it was cute—but the words, not so much.
"That's not what I—"
He laughed softly, catching her chin with his fingers. "Relax, Bella. I'm teasing."
Then, quieter, more sincere: "You're… dangerous, you know that? I never lose control. Not until you."
Bella's pulse stuttered. She looked at him for a long moment before whispering,
"Maybe you just needed someone to remind you you're human."
For a second, something unguarded flashed in his eyes—something that felt dangerously close to affection.
"Maybe I did," he murmured, his thumb tracing small circles on her wrist. "And maybe I don't mind it being you."
He let out a low, throaty sound, burying his face in the hollow of her neck. "Mia cara," he whispered, almost reverently, "you have no idea what you do to me."
Her hands moved automatically, fingers weaving through his hair, tracing the line of his neck. They stayed like that for a while—him holding her as if he could keep the world at bay, her allowing herself to melt into his warmth.
Eventually, the soft sounds of morning pulled them back to reality. Bella shifted slightly, careful not to break his hold.
"We should wake Rachel," she murmured.
Lucas grunted, reluctantly loosening his grip. "Five more minutes," he complained, his voice still laced with sleep.
"Nope," she said, tugging gently at his arm. "School won't wait, and neither will breakfast."
He finally sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair—now thoroughly messed up by her fingers. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, intense and unreadable. Then, with a playful smirk, he added,
"Walk slowly?"
Bella laughed softly. "Always," she whispered, guiding him toward the bedroom door.