The celebration had faded into memory, the music long gone, and yet my heart still raced like it had when I first walked down the aisle.
The hotel room was quiet, golden light spilling from the bedside lamp, casting shadows across the white sheets. Peryn stood at the window, jacket gone, tie loose, staring out as though trying to catch his breath from everything that had happened today.
When he turned to me, though, there was no trace of nervousness in his eyes—only something deeper. A softness I had never seen before, mixed with the fire I always felt flickering between us.
He came closer, wordless, until his hands cupped my face. "Luna," he whispered, as if saying my name was the only vow he'd ever need.
That night, the teasing disappeared. The bickering melted away. There were no games, no half-smiles—just us, raw and unguarded, discovering each other in ways words could never capture.
The world outside could've collapsed, and I wouldn't have noticed.Because in that moment, we weren't two kids playing at enemies or friends.We were two souls finally coming home.
The morning after was painted in sunlight.
I woke to the steady rhythm of his breathing, his arm wrapped tight around me like he was afraid I'd vanish. My gown was crumpled in the corner, his shirt hung over a chair, and the silence between us wasn't awkward—it was peaceful.
When I shifted, his eyes opened slowly, warm and a little tired. "Hey," he murmured, voice husky with sleep.
"Hey," I whispered back, cheeks heating at the memory of last night.
He studied me for a second, then smirked. "You're blushing."
I shoved his chest lightly, burying my face in the pillow. "Shut up."
But his laughter was soft, his hand finding mine beneath the covers. "No seriously," he said, voice gentler now, "last night… I'll never forget it."
Neither would I. Because for the first time in my life, I knew what it meant to be completely, utterly loved.