Zayn’s POV
With a final, lingering hug, he reluctantly moved to the driver’s seat. We quickly threw our discarded clothes on, and then, with our fingers intertwined, we drove back toward the glowing city lights.
The drive back to the hotel was silent, yet it was the loudest silence we’d ever shared. Every glance, every squeeze of my hand that rested on Evric’s thigh, said, We are fiancés.
The mont we stepped into our lavish suite, the promise of food and a shower took priority over everything else. Evric had barely closed the door before the aroma of our late-night room service order hit us, perfect timing.
"Food first!" I declared, making a beeline for the silver tray, but Evric was faster, sweeping up from behind.
"Wash first!" he corrected, his voice playful. "You sll like sweat and existential commitnt."
"And you sll like sex and expensive cologne," I countered, giggling as he dragged toward the bathroom.
The shower was less about cleanliness and more about connection. We wrestled playfully under the pulsing hot spray, the steam imdiately fogging the mirrors. Evric tried to soap my back, which instantly devolved into a bubbly ambush.
"Evric! You got soap in my eye!" I yelled, montarily blinded.
He panicked, rushing to kiss my cheek. "No, no, baby, I’m sorry! Don’t worry, my love will heal it."
"Your love is stinging !" I wailed dramatically, which only made him laugh harder as he tried to rinse my face while simultaneously pulling close for a wet, soapy kiss. We stumbled out, wrapped in giant white robes, leaving a trail of happy, soaking wet footprints across the marble floor.
We settled onto the plush sofa, the silver dos lifted to reveal a few simple, perfect midnight snacks. We ate slowly, nestled side by side, sharing small, soft glances that held years of unspoken love.
As I took a bite of a savory pastry, Evric leaned in, his eyes shining with a soft excitent. "So, darling," he murmured, "after we get married, how many countries do you want us to visit for our honeymoon?"
I swallowed and shrugged. "I haven’t thought of any yet."
Evric smiled broadly, reaching for my hand and kissing my knuckles. "Good. Because I have."
"Oh? And how many destinations does the great Evric Draeven have in mind?" I asked, already suspicious.
"Seven countries," he announced proudly.
My eyes widened. "Seven countries?"
He nodded, completely serious. "Yes."
I laughed, nudging him with my shoulder. "Babe, seven is too damn much."
"Relax, babe," he said, stealing one of my fries. "We’re not going to see all seven. We’re just going to pick five out of the seven countries."
"Five?" I repeated, stifling a giggle. "What is the difference between five and seven, exactly?"
Evric looked thoughtful. "The difference is two. A gap of two, just like our age gap."
I shook my head, my smile unwavering. "Five is still too much, Evric."
He turned, putting his fork down, and gave his best pleading look. "Please, babe."
I repeated gently, feeling his stubbornness lting into charm. "Five is too much, and it sounds like stress."
He sighed dramatically, then straightened, his eyes regaining their decisive glint. "Fine. I am going to say my last option now, and you can’t say no. Because I’m saying it as your husband to be."
I smiled, my heart lting at the word, and gave in completely. "Okay, daddy," I murmured, leaning in close. "I’m listening."
Evric’s grin returned, triumphant. He kissed my hand and announced, "We are going to three countries. And that’s it. End of discussion."
I let out a soft sigh of relief. "Okay, babe. That’s better."
We both smiled, a conversation that started with serious, high-stakes planning and dissolved into playful affection. We finished our food between soft kisses and shared dreams, the small intimacy of our midnight snack feeling just as important as the proposal itself.
The transition to the massive, soft bed felt like slipping into a cloud. Evric switched off all the main lights, leaving only the soft ambient glow from the city outside filtering through the massive window.
He settled first, holding the covers open for . I didn’t hesitate. I burrowed into his warmth, wrapping myself around him like a contented, sleepy cat. My head tucked perfectly into the hollow of his neck, my leg draped possessively over his.
Evric shifted onto his side, becoming my solid, immovable anchor. He wrapped his strong arm around , holding firmly against his chest. I could feel his steady heartbeat, a slow, comforting thump-thump—right beneath my ear.
Just as my eyelids grew too heavy to sleep, I felt his lips touch my forehead, then the soft pressure of his mouth moving lower to steal a sweet, lingering kiss on my mouth.
"Sleep well, my beautiful fiancé," he whispered, his breath warm and familiar.
I didn’t answer, already half-asleep, but I pressed my face tighter against him, breathing in the scent of him knowing that I was finally, irrevocably, ho. I drifted off to sleep, feeling completely safe, completely loved, and wrapped entirely around my man.
When morning finally arrived, it wasn’t the gentle sunrise that woke , but the insistent, vibrating ring of my phone on the bedside table. I burrowed deeper into Evric’s chest, trying to ignore it, but the calls wouldn’t stop. I checked the screen: era. She had called so many tis already, and knowing her, she wouldn’t keep calling over sothing trivial, she’s too proud for that. If she’s still ringing , it has to be sothing urgent. I couldn’t ignore it any longer.
I eased myself gently out of Evric’s warm, confining hold, trying not to disturb him. I rushed quietly across to the sofa, putting a little distance between myself and the bed, and finally answered the call.
"Hello," I whispered into the phone, expecting a barrage of ranting due to the late hour and my silence.
Instead, her voice was surprisingly calm. "I’ve called you countless tis, and I even sent ssages that didn’t go through. It seems like you blocked ."
"I apologize, I was busy," I told her honestly.
"It’s fine," she said, getting straight to the point, her voice stripped of its usual edge. era explained that she would be traveling in two days and taking my son, Liam, with her. She wouldn’t be returning for several years, it seed she was relocating permanently.
"The reason I called," she continued, "is to tell you to set aside a day to be with your son. Spend the night with him, let him feel his father for the first ti since he was born. If you can’t make it, that’s fine, I just wanted you to know the opportunity is there."
I listened, frozen in disbelief. When she hung up, the world felt colder, heavier, as if the air itself had thickened around . "I... I’ll get back to you soon," I finally murmured before the line went dead.
I stood by the sofa, phone still warm in my hand, my mind spinning with shock, responsibility, and worry. I paced silently, muttering to myself, "Two days... relocating... How do I tell Evric that I’ll be gone for a night when we’re barely enjoying our ti together?"
I didn’t realize that Evric was awake.
The mont I raised my head and turned to check on him, our eyes t across the quiet room. He was propped up on his elbow, watching intently.
The first thing he said was soft, beautiful, and utterly heart-lting: "Co here."
I quickly rushed to the bed. He opened the duvet, and I slid under it, imdiately lting into his familiar warmth. He wrapped his arms around , holding tight against his chest.
"What is the matter?" he asked, his voice low and concerned. He didn’t ask who called; he just focused on my distress.
I lifted my head to et his eyes, the comfort of his presence making the words spill out. "Liam is moving abroad with his mother in two days," I said, my voice trembling. "She wants to set aside a day to spend ti with him."
I waited, bracing myself for his reaction, even as he held close.
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