LANCE
"Lance," Rose whispered, leaning into my touch as I caressed her warm, rosy cheek. She curled into me, one arm looped around my waist, the other tucked under her head for support.
I smiled, watching the soft outline of her face. She was perfection—there was no other word. Her inky black hair spilled across my pillow like silk. Her lips, parted slightly, shaped like a delicate cupid's bow, let out the faintest snore. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, and for a moment I thought she might wake. But she didn't. Instead, she shifted closer, nuzzling into me like she was searching for more warmth.
I gently pulled the duvet higher over her bare skin and began to rise from the bed, but her fingers caught mine, halting me.
"Don't leave me," she muttered, her voice so soft I barely caught it.
"I'm always with you, Rosie," I murmured, leaning in to brush a kiss across her cheek.
